Stress is an odd bear. Ferocious. Hungry. But there must be some perception of cuteness about it. For we treat it like a teddy bear. Take it to bed with us. Cuddle it. Hold it when we wake up in the dark. Share it with friends. Family. It is always there for us. Whenever we need it. And we welcome it into our lives. Stress is an odd bear. It goes into hibernation often. We don’t really miss it when it is gone. We know it sleeping. Snoring perhaps, and storing up energy for the next time we need it to arise, exit its cave, land on our pillow, our doorstep, our desk at work, our kitchen counter while we bake chocolate chip scones, and take over our lives. Stress is an odd bear. Big and sharp clawed. Keen and cunning. It loves cherries and fish. Honey. It loves to eat. Away at our souls. It hangs on for it is loyal. And we appear to appreciate its loyalty. And we take it to bed with us, but again. Just like Joan Armatrading sings, ‘some days, the bear will eat you.’ Stress is an odd bear.