Tiny Buddha

Tag: anxiety

  • How to Deal with Worries

    How to Deal with Worries

    “A lot of what weighs you down isn’t yours to carry.” ~Unknown

    What are you worried about right now? No matter how hard we try to not worry, and even when we know that stress is terrible for our health, worry inevitably seeps into our boundaries for one reason or another. Chronic stress causes wear and tear on our bodies, potentially leading to a number of health ailments.

    This terrifies me as a person with many stress points in her life, and as a widowed only parent of three young children. I want to live a long, healthy life so I can be there for my family as long as possible and also enjoy my life. For me, the stakes are high, and I know that I need to work on how I respond to stress.

    Dealing with our worries is a journey of learning when to let go and when to hang on in the wild rollercoaster ride of being alive.

    My school district gave out almost 300 pink slips this year. These are legal notifications that your job is in danger of being eliminated. I was one of the teachers who received one, even though I had been teaching for twenty years.

    You expect to receive them as a new teacher. The last one I received was six years into my career. However, receiving a pink slip at this point was a huge shock to me and a lot of my veteran colleagues, because we had reached the peak of our career mountain when we were supposed to be staring down the final descent toward retirement, not going back out into the job market.

    Worry existed on steroids at my school. I have a leadership position, and one of the most difficult parts of the experience was watching grown adults have breakdowns, perseverating over worst-case scenarios and riddled with anxiety about the future.

    After the initial shock wore off, they cycled through feelings of anger, sadness, and fear. Many of them did not know how they would pay their bills. The toxicity of everyone’s moods hung like a dark cloud over all of us, and I found it difficult to cope with my own emotions while submerged in this environment of despair.

    I found myself turning to my Buddhist practice during this time. The first of the Four Noble Truths in Buddhism is dukkha, which is suffering. Suffering is a fact of life. It exists on a spectrum ranging from minor annoyances to major tragedies, usually a matter of life or death.

    Another way of thinking about suffering is life not going as expected, or not getting what you want. Suffering, or the fear of suffering, causes worry.

    I had gotten comfortable in life and was caught off-guard about my job. It didn’t even cross my mind that this kind of suffering could exist, but of course it was always there. I worried about not finding a similar position, and I worried about putting myself out there in interviews and hustling to market myself as a professional.

    Realizing that attachment causes suffering is Noble Truth #2. Letting those attachments go to stop suffering is Noble Truth #3, and the truth of the path forward is Noble Truth #4. These are designed to help us accept reality as it is and to live in the best possible way for our individual journey.

    Once the initial shock of my pink slip wore off, I started imagining various scenarios and how I would respond. I realized there was a path forward no matter what happened, even if I couldn’t fully conceptualize what mine would look like.

    I had a colleague who said something profound during the crisis. He isn’t usually the type to stay calm during times of adversity, but he said, “I’ve lost a lot of positions in my life, and I always land somewhere better.”

    Those words stuck with me. No matter what happens, you’ll likely grow and learn from the experience and maybe end up somewhere even better than before.

    Part of learning to accept reality is to understand and embrace the concept of impermanence. Impermanence means that nothing stays the same.

    The bad news is that the good aspects of your life will not remain forever. You will not always have your favorite people in your life. The brand-new car you bought will get scratched and eventually have a lot of miles on it.

    However, the good news is that the bad things in your life also will not stay the same. Quarrels blow over. Elections come and go. Recessions eventually disappear into the rearview mirror.

    We eventually adjust to changes in our circumstances, even the ones we didn’t want.

    I know the education budget crisis will eventually pass. I know this because in 2012 I was out on the streets waving signs and advocating and wearing pink to show solidarity, and that feels like a lifetime ago. Now we’re wearing “red for ed” and back on the streets fighting for education funding in 2024.

    For the past twelve years, I haven’t had to think about the budget. I survived the recession and kept my job.

    It will get better.

    And it will get worse.

    It will also look different.

    This is all part of the journey.

    Embracing the concept of non-self is important in addressing our worries. It is necessary to separate who you are from your problems. I think we have a tendency to merge the two.

    I hear people make self-deprecating comments like “I’m a terrible speaker.” This is not a fixed character trait.

    The way to become a better speaker is to keep speaking. To practice. Trial and error.

    The only way out is through. You’ve got to do the thing. I think a lot of our worry comes from boxing ourselves into labels that are not real. This can blind us to the fact that we can change our situation at any given moment, even if it is only our perspective and attitude about it.

    I am a teacher, but that is not who I am. I teach at a particular school in a particular department, teaching particular courses, but those details are not who I am either.

    It’s easy to cling to those labels and call them an identity when those aspects of our lives feel important and familiar. However, everything will inevitably end at some point anyway, and we will still be the same person, with or without the details we clung so tightly to.

    We have to work on becoming less self-attached. Our foolish selves naturally gravitate toward thinking about me, me, me. We are inclined toward self-centeredness. We wallow in our personal circumstances and cannot see past our little bubble, and it obscures the big picture.

    Finally, working on non-attachment is a way to alleviate worry. We are attached to so many things, and this is what causes us to suffer.

    As a teacher, I see my students attached to getting into a specific college, or getting a certain grade, or winning a game, and the list goes on and on. It doesn’t get better in adulthood. Adults may be attached to projecting a specific image or having a certain amount of money. A parent may be attached to what they think their kids should play for sports or how they expect them to perform in school.

    Let these expectations go. Stop being attached to one version of life. Be open to other variations, and you might have a few less things to worry about. This requires trust in the innumerable paths life has to offer us.

    In the end, my school district rescinded all of our pink slips. Nothing happened to my job, at least not for next year.

    One may view this experience as a waste of emotions, but I see it as a wake-up call. I know I’ll come out of this experience stronger, more resilient, and better prepared for whatever is around the corner.

    Suffering is important and it can actually make us better humans. Thich Nhat Hanh said that “suffering is essential for happiness. We have to know the suffering of being too cold to enjoy and appreciate being warm.”

    One way to think about what worries us is to accept the worst-case scenarios and be willing to look for the lessons. This changes how we view suffering. It shifts it from being the boogeyman who we are scared of to a firm but impactful teacher who helps us become comfortable with the uncomfortable.

    It is important to remember that the present moment is not always going to be rainbows and unicorns. Sometimes it will be losing a job, someone breaking up with us, our loved one dying, the refrigerator breaking, getting sick, and a lot of other potential unwanted scenarios.

    Whatever is happening, we need to be able to sit with it, know that it will not last because of impermanence, and also remember that it is teaching us something that is making us better versions of who we were.

    Maybe half the battle of worry is normalizing failure—to adjust our reality. Not internalizing failure but recognizing that it is a normal part of the growing process. It is not something that defines who we are. It is not something to hold on tight to, but rather something to reflect on and let go so you can make space in your life and have the energy to try again.

    When you feel worried about something, remember that the best way out is always going to be through. Trust the process.

  • 4 Powerful Ways to Master the Art of Living with Uncertainty

    4 Powerful Ways to Master the Art of Living with Uncertainty

    “Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.” ~John Allen Paulos

    Uncertainty has always been a fact of life, but I think we can all agree that its looming presence seems to be more potent than ever.

    As if the uncertainties of personal matters—finding love, holding down a job, raising healthy kids—weren’t challenging enough, now we’re facing political, environmental, and technological uncertainties on a scale not previously known.

    Polarizing figures are running for office and winning.

    Heat domes and super blizzards are disrupting our quality of life.

    Artificial intelligence might single-handedly upend entire sectors of jobs.

    Suffice it to say that uncertainty isn’t going away.

    It’s raised a lot of questions in my own life. How can I secure my future? Am I prepared to give up certain comforts? Should I be stocking up on more emergency food and water?

    I’ve come to realize that it’s in my best interest to learn how to live with uncertainty—not simply to make it less intolerable, but to awaken the personal power that comes through dancing with the unknown.

    Several years ago, I experienced a wake-up call in the face of new uncertainties, and I was in no way prepared for it.

    I sustained work-related injuries that completely upended my life. While living in a state of intense physical and emotional pain for almost a year, I was unable to work or take care of myself. Brushing my hair and putting on skinny jeans was a struggle.

    Long after my injuries healed, my doctor told me the lingering chronic pain was likely going to be permanent. Suddenly, I had to consider a future where I would be unemployable, completely reliant upon others, and in constant pain. But after months of mental suffering, I finally found the silver lining.

    My true power lies in my ability to embrace the unknown.

    From that moment forward, I began taking risks to create the life I actually wanted. I left the career that led to my injury, and I started over, even though I had no shred of evidence to prove that I would be successful. I chose to believe I could reshape my future and thrive.

    Your power isn’t measured by how well you perform when the temperature is just right, everyone agrees with you, and the outcomes are guaranteed. It’s easy to be kind and feel confident when life flows smoothly and predictably.

    But when your kid is having a meltdown two minutes before your job interview?

    Or your landlord decides not to renew your lease?

    Or your spouse is diagnosed with a chronic disease?

    These are the moments when you have an opportunity to stop old habits—catastrophizing, finger-pointing, or coming apart at the seams—and to start trusting yourself to grow into an expanded, more resilient version of you.

    Everything has a degree of uncertainty. I believe that mastering the art of living with unknowns is the secret to being successful at anything you put your mind to—whether it’s building a business or reentering the dating world.

    Because your relationship with uncertainty is a choice.

    What if you could be a master sorcerer at responding to, playing with, and leveraging the unplanned circumstances of your life?

    What if it felt empowering or even magical to be with the unfolding unknown?

    This isn’t to say that feeling afraid or grieving change is wrong. When everything that once felt secure is now on the chopping board, it’s normal to be upset. But endless suffering isn’t necessary, healthy, or empowering.

    If you let your survival brain steer the wheel, you’ll easily get stuck in indecision and doubt, which will obscure what’s possible.

    Power comes through experiencing your unrealized self-agency precisely when everything seems out of control—to remember that you have choice in every moment.

    To be fair, very real, very harmful changes are happening in the world. When your rights are being taken away, global warming is destroying the earth, and no one can agree on what’s the “truth” anymore, we need to mobilize to create the change that’s desperately needed. You can’t make a difference when you’re busy complaining, floundering, or hiding from the problem.

    Expanding your capacity to embrace uncertainty is an inevitable journey that life will keep inviting you to participate in until you finally say yes.

    Here are a few ways to start building a new relationship with uncertainty.

    4 Ways to Master the Art of Living with Uncertainty

     1. Reduce anxiety and turn up the curiosity. 

    Anxiety is the result of your internal threat sensors getting activated, and this is natural, but it can easily become a self-perpetuating cycle.

    Intercepting anxiety is a superpower you want to have. It allows you to problem-solve like a wizard from a place of curiosity. Curiosity is neutral, unbiased, and open to possibilities. It doesn’t care about failure; it only cares about learning. It doesn’t listen to your ego; it only draws insight from your deeper wisdom. Curiosity will help you spark ideas and take action. Anxiety will crush innovation and paralyze you.

    There are countless tools that can help you turn off the stress signals in your brain. Anytime you feel anxiety rearing its ugly head, try this breathing technique. Pause what you’re doing to inhale for four, hold for four, and exhale for four. Repeat a few times. Small interventions like breathing have a powerful cumulative effect in building resilience in your nervous system.

    2. Consult your three centers of intelligence.

    They say there are three brains—one in your head, one in your heart, and one in your gut. There are actually thousands of neurons in your heart, and we all know that gut-instinct feeling in our belly.

    Each of these wisdom centers gives you messages that are each meaningful in their own way if you pause to listen. All you need to do is ask your mind, heart, and gut what they each know to be true about a situation you’re facing.

    To get the most out of this practice, go to a quiet, uninterrupted space. Center yourself, step into your curiosity, and go inward for some wisdom. “What does my heart, gut, and mind know about this situation that’s important for me to know?”

    When I took a leap of faith in quitting my nine-to-five job to become a healer, my heart and gut were in full agreement about this decision. I was excited and relieved to realize what I truly wanted to do. But my mind was initially full of questions like, “How do I start taking steps to make this happen?” and “How can I afford this risk?”

    Sometimes your centers of intelligence might not be in alignment, which creates that feeling of inner conflict. That is completely normal. Consulting your three centers is about gathering information.

    In my case, the practicality of my mind wasn’t ready to shake hands with my feelings and intuition. So I knew I needed to listen carefully to my inner wisdom, which said loud and clear, “You need to plan this out carefully and not make any naive decisions!”

    3. When in doubt, remember you always have two options.

    When you’re struggling to embrace change or uncertainty, remember that you always have one of two options: gracefully surrender or rise up and play a part. In other words, you can change your thoughts about the situation, or you can change the situation.

    Making decisions can feel taxing. Isn’t it easier to choose between one of two options, as opposed to endlessly resisting, lamenting, or overthinking it?

    Whether you decide to surrender or take action, all you need to ask yourself is, “What’s the next smallest step I need to take?” Focus on one small step at a time.

    4. Plant new seeds.

    How often do you doubt yourself or assume the worst? How likely are you to label your experience as “hard,” “impossible,” or “unfair”? If you allow limiting beliefs to run amok, you’re giving up a lot of rent-free space in your mind to thoughts that do not serve you. Fixating on despair and hopelessness creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. Don’t do that.

    You were made to rise up to something greater—believing and embodying this truth is perhaps your greatest unrealized power. Choosing to believe that you have free will, are inherently worthy, and have infinite creativity is a game-changing strategy that very few people take advantage of.

    You get to create the narrative of your life. What beliefs do you want to have about yourself and what you can achieve? Get specific, write them down, and make a regular practice of rooting into these beliefs and embodying them.

    Embodying a belief means that it feels congruent inside when you think it. A belief is just an empty thought if you don’t emotionally embody it. If a new belief feels like too big of a jump, start really small. Remind yourself, “Even though I feel this way, I am learning to feel differently.”

    When I first started putting myself in front of people to talk about my work as a healer, I was not used to the visibility and vulnerability it required. Despite being over-the-moon excited to help people, I was surprised to learn that it was also frightening.

    I knew I needed to build more capacity to feel safe being seen and taking up space. So I started to gently remind myself that “I am safe when I’m visible” as I embodied the feeling of inner security. This is not an overnight trick. This is a dedicated practice that takes time and tenacity to commit to.

    Planting seeds is a long-term investment in yourself—treat it like a non-negotiable part of your health routine and a sacred remembering of who you’re becoming and where you’re going.

    —

    Strengthening your relationship with uncertainty is going to set you up for unimaginable success in your relationships, career, and creative endeavors because it will enable you to take chances you might otherwise be afraid to take. And it will also help you better cope with the varied challenges of our time.

    If you waver on a big decision because you’re scared of the unknown, simply ask yourself what would make you proud of yourself in the long run. Treat every obstacle or mishap as a learning opportunity, where your only job is to stay curious and get better at pivoting. This will build your self-trust muscle and your confidence. Eventually you’ll realize how much more comfortable you are with uncertainty. Last but not least, be sure to celebrate this momentous win!

  • Healing Anxious Attachment Patterns to Create Space for Love

    Healing Anxious Attachment Patterns to Create Space for Love

    “Anxious attachment stems from a deep sense of inner instability where old wounds make people anticipate that they will be abandoned again and again.” ~Jessica Baum

    I have recently met the love of my life. Yay!!! He is the person I’ve been imagining for as long as I can remember, hoping and praying that one day I would find him.

    It took such a long time that I began to suspect I was delusional for imagining that such a love was possible, and I almost gave up on the idea of him. But now he is here, and we share the most incredibly beautiful love and my soul is so vibrantly happy to be next to him.

    But the story isn’t so simple because my soul shares this space with my conditioned mind (old parts of myself that developed their own ways of being). To these parts of my ego mind, love feels alien and threatening. When these parts take over, I fall out of alignment with the frequency of our love and tumble back into the fears and worries that trigger me to play out old patterns.

    Until quite recently, I believed myself to be unworthy of loving or of being loved. I was born into a toxic family, to parents who were mentally and emotionally unwell, and as a result, I experienced much neglect and abuse. As is usual after such childhood trauma, I developed a deeply ingrained insecure attachment style, a deep mistrust and fear of others, and a consuming sense of unworthiness.

    For decades, these wounds led me unconsciously down the same paths I had witnessed around me as a child. My idea of love was deeply confused. I sought validation and reassurance of my worth continuously, while feeling in my core that I was unworthy of love. I was only attracted to unavailable men who couldn’t, didn’t, or wouldn’t love me, confirming my idea that I was unlovable and unwanted.

    As a therapist, I knew enough to try to manage my thoughts and feelings and work on myself. But in all truth these patterns of being anxiously and obsessively codependent continued to play out, making me both deeply miserable and also ashamed of my inability to fix, change, or manage them well enough.

    After my divorce four years ago I was so broken, vulnerable, and devastated and so tired of these repeated patterns within myself that I made the decision to invest wholeheartedly into my relationship with myself. I wanted to heal these old childhood wounds that still haunted me so powerfully.

    While these old parts still nudge me with their thoughts and feelings of being unlovable, of not feeling safe, of needing to remain vigilant and needing to perform as they always did, they are now way less consuming. I’ve healed enough that I’ve been able to find my love, and I’m able to separate enough from them that I can see them as they arise and support myself as they do.

    I want to share with others the things I do to ride this inevitable wave of oscillating between the old patterns and the new emerging, more securely attached version of myself.

    Last week our plans changed because his daughter was sad and needed him. It meant that I didn’t hear from him for the rest of that day and a little through the next one.

    I imagined that he would realize that he had been neglecting his daughter, hence her sadness, and that he would decide that he needed to end our love so that he could better focus on his important role of being a good father to her. I felt so saddened by the thought of him leaving that I cried as the anxiety coursed through my body and the old familiar feelings of abandonment threatened to overwhelm me.

    The good news is that I knew that I could soothe and support myself, so I stepped into the following action.

    I listened.

    I spent a good hour or so writing about my thoughts, feelings, and fears and letting this part of myself know that I was there and I was listening.

    I gave her (this young part of myself) space to process what she was experiencing without jumping in to judge her. I approached her with open, compassionate curiosity by asking her a variety of what, why, how, and when type questions.

    I let her write and share and come up with a plan to deal with what might happen (in the worst-case scenario), and I sat with all the heavy feelings it brought with it.

    I offered reassurance.

    I told her that it would be okay, that whatever happened I would be there and I would support and love her through this.

    I asked her to breathe and be in this moment with me—to just breathe.

    I reminded her that whatever happened was for our highest good.

    I reminded her of the journey we had been on and how far we’d come to get to this loving self relationship.

    I reminded her that she was just a ghost from the past, that she had already served her time in trying to protect me from harm, and that she could relax now because she was safe.

    I refocused my attention.

    All this managed to ease my anxiety a little so I could get on with my day; seeing friends, doing a little work, and keeping myself busy. While I could feel the panic and anxiety within, it wasn’t debilitating, not like it used to be. But it was definitely still there. I couldn’t quite shift the sense that I should pay attention to the uneasy feelings in my body.

    I resisted the urge to text him seeking reassurance. I simply gave him space (with some phone stalking) and respected that he was having a process.

    I planned to talk with him, when he was ready, to shift our connection so that we could stay together and make more space for his important connection with his daughter. If that was what he wanted too. By now I was pretty sure he wouldn’t, and I reminded myself that if he didn’t, I would be okay.

    He arrived later that day, and I was ready for whatever was about to happen, but not actually what did happen.

    He was just the same—happy to see me, feeling good in our love—and absolutely nothing had changed for him. His daughter was fine, and he had none of the problems or concerns that I imagined he had had.

    And I was completely thrown!

    I had gotten so involved in the story, with a whole plan of how we could move forward from this place, that it took me completely by surprise that NONE of it was real or necessary.

    I just wasn’t able to see that the part of me that learned to be so vigilant of hurt or harm had imagined the whole thing.  I was so focused on practicing self-compassion and support that I hadn’t really stopped to question its validity.

    I guess the next level of my process is about recognizing when it is important and necessary to offer myself gentle compassion and support and when is it time for a tougher kind of loving compassion by saying “That’s enough, no more!” I’m pretty certain that both have their place and are necessary!

    What I’m learning is that loving and being loved is a huge process for the old parts of my ego mind, and maintaining the frequency of love is going to take some practice. And that my mind is really, really tricky!

    For now, I am oscillating in and out of higher and lower states of energy, thoughts, and feelings about intimacy, love, and connection. I am both in the process of becoming a higher vibrational version of myself AND of releasing the old ways of being that no longer serve me.

    I am choosing to remind myself that all these old energies, thoughts, feelings, and patterns are coming up in order to be released, and as long as I don’t believe in them, they will eventually pass.

    I want to detach completely from any shame I have about my humanness, so I am leaning into my humor and watching myself with loving curiosity as these energies pass by.

    For now, I am choosing to commit more fully to my daily mindfulness practice so that I can train my traumatized mind to stay present and enjoy this beautiful love.

    I write this for all of us who are brave enough to face our own ghosts so that we can love and be loved, just as we deserve. My hope is that by sharing my journey, it will help you with yours. 

  • Why I’m Now Welcoming My Anxiety with Open Arms

    Why I’m Now Welcoming My Anxiety with Open Arms

    “You are not your feelings. You just experience them. Anger, sadness, hate, depression, fear. This is the rain you walk in. But you don’t become the rain. You know the rain will pass. You walk on. And you remember the soft glow of the sun that will come again.” ~Matt Haig

    I have been anxious for as long as I can remember.

    All of my earliest memories are ones where I was worrying or fearful for one reason or another.

    Thinking back, the first memory I have that is akin to that of an actual anxiety disorder, meaning that the anxiety was interfering with my day-to-day life, was when I was in the first grade and I simply refused to use the computers in the computer lab at school because I was scared of breaking them. It wasn’t just a fear of breaking it; it was the full-blown rabbit hole that my thoughts took me down because of it.

    I worried that if I used the computer, then it would break, then the teacher would yell at me, then I would get suspended, then I would get in trouble with my parents, then they would get into a fight, and then they would break up, and then it would be my fault. And that’s not even the end of the cycle! There were other twists and turns that led to other irrational potential consequences as well.

    I never thought to talk to anybody about troubling thoughts that I was having because I assumed it was normal, that all of my classmates felt the same.

    I have always been a quiet and reserved person. The people around me never let me forget about it either. Even in high school classes, the attention would get focused on me and why I wasn’t talking and laughing with the rest of the kids during group work. Class presentations? Forget about it.

    I always took the failing grade on those assignments.

    I finally saw a psychiatrist when I was sixteen because I did eventually open up to my mother about my issues. There have been numerous medication changes over the years, as sometimes I would get nasty side effects from them, or they just plain didn’t work.

    To be honest, I have never been entirely sure that they have been effective at all. When I voiced this concern to my psychiatrist, she told me flat out that given my history, trauma, and personality, my anxiety was most likely going to be a lifelong condition. I instantly went into denial mode.

    However, she did set me up with a therapist who worked in the outpatient clinic whom I met with several times. Because it was only a short-term thing, we didn’t get to delve deep into my issues, but he gave me tools that actually helped. Even though I have struggled to implement them off and on over the years, I do believe they hold weight.

    All of the brief and very infrequent periods of relative calmness in my life were achieved from remembering these two things.

    The only way to beat anxiety is to accept it and face it. If there was one thing that the therapist made sure to cement in my mind, it was to never run away from it. In fact, he encouraged me to invite it on purpose. At the time I was too immature to understand it. It sounded like a terrible idea. Why would I want to purposely feel like that?

    If you do wind up avoiding the things or situations that trigger your anxiety, it will grow over time and become even harder to contain.

    I remember leaving that appointment feeling like there was some type of parasite living inside my mind. A parasite that feeds on fear, and if I wasn’t careful it would grow into this giant monster that would swallow me whole!

    Flash-forward a few years to when I have a little bit more life experience, some jobs under my belt, some education to complete, a.k.a. real chances to face my anxiety… and I have come to understand what he was talking about.

    Today, I have fully accepted that I am an anxious person. I fully accept that I will always be a little reserved and cautious and live with a tendency to overthink things.

    For example, just last week at work my manager took a phone call and I immediately thought it was about me. My mind led me down that all too familiar rabbit hole. Instantly, the thoughts began flooding my mind.

    It went like this: They have finalized the decision. I am a horrible employee and am about to get fired. I will no longer have an income, and I will lose my apartment. Next, my girlfriend will break up with me, and after that I will die alone on the street, and no one will ever remember me.

    Of course there were other scenarios and weird consequences that my mind conjured up. I liken the experience to some twisted “choose your own adventure story.”

    In reality, the phone call didn’t even have anything to do with me, and the rest of my day just went on as normal. I didn’t die. The world didn’t explode. I didn’t lose my mind. And I didn’t get screamed at.

    It was just the anxiety talking, and I accept that.

    I now know that it can’t hurt me, and it doesn’t make me a bad person. I know that I can be successful in whatever endeavors I embark on in life. I will just have to work a little harder than some people to overcome my own worst enemy… my mind.

    Just like the therapist had explained all those years ago, accepting my anxiety has weirdly taken away its power. It no longer has the grip on me that it once had. It is what it is. It is never EVER going away, so why fight it? I have already hit rock bottom several times thanks to my anxiety, and did it kill me? No, I survived and got back up and kept pushing.

    The best mindset that I have adopted for myself is that my thoughts simply do not define me. Plain and simple. I know that I am going to be anxious whether I DO, and I know that I will be anxious whether I DON’T, so, what the hell, I might as well DO.

    And that right there is the key! Despite that terrible, gut-wrenching sense of terror and unease, you still have control. You have the power to act in opposition to how you feel.

    It’s easier said than done, believe me. But whatever it is that you are scared of facing, don’t put it off any longer. Just do it. It’s the only way that you will eventually realize that in the end, everything will be okay.

    Sure, you might still be anxious, but it will slowly and surely lose its grip on you.

    I forget where I read it, but I saw a quote where somebody said that anxiety is the disease of missed opportunity, and I have never related to anything more in my life.

    I have missed out on countless opportunities in life, some potential life-long memories that I will forever regret missing out on.

    Life is short. It is too beautiful to shy away from. I don’t want to miss any more. From here on out, I am choosing to fight my anxiety by welcoming it with open arms.

  • 3 Popular Myths Around Having and Healing Anxiety

    3 Popular Myths Around Having and Healing Anxiety

    “Never fear shadows. They simply mean there’s a light shining somewhere nearby.” ~Ruth E. Renkel

    Before I started healing my anxiety, I thought there was something seriously wrong with me. Every panic attack, every morning filled with dread, every social event that I would mentally prepare myself for made me feel like I had some inner deficiency that no one else had.

    I used to work as a cashier at a grocery store and would avoid hanging out with people twenty-four hours before my shift. Yep. That means if I worked on Saturday morning, I wouldn’t hang out with anyone from Friday afternoon to the evening.

    Why? Because I had to “prepare” myself for my entry-level position at the grocery store. I had to “make sure I felt okay,” as if the whole world was watching to see if I didn’t smile for an hour.

    I was extremely critical of myself and felt that if I wasn’t drenched in positivity, I was useless to the world. And that if I wasn’t exuding confidence every moment of my life, people would think I wasn’t good enough.

    When I started on my journey to healing my anxiety, I uncovered a few life events that had had a major effect on my inner world. One of them occurred during a dance competition that I was a part of at a young age. I was maybe ten years old when I was a part of a Bhangra group, which is a style of folk dance that originated in Punjab, India.

    Bhangra is a highly energized style of dance, and when you watch a performance, you’ll see that the dancers are smiling really wide and having the time of their lives. This is an important part of the performance, as you’re meant to bring this high energy to the stage so that the audience has a good time.

    At one of my dance competitions, my group had just finished performing, and the judges were ready to say their piece. All of the judges had great things to say, except for one that decided to point out a flaw in my personal part of the performance. He said, “Everyone did such an amazing job and were smiling so big and having fun, but you” (points to me, younger Raman) “didn’t seem to be smiling so wide. Why was that?”

    As a ten-year-old, my heart dropped as every eyeball in that auditorium looked straight at me. I can’t quite remember what I responded with, but if I’m being honest, I don’t think I said much. I tried to keep it “chill.” I’m pretty sure I just shrugged and said, “I don’t know” while my soul exited my body out of embarrassment, and then eventually walked off the stage with my dance group.

    We were young, and we were just having fun with this dance competition. We weren’t trying to win a national championship, and we weren’t even trying that hard to impress the judges. Even though we did end up winning a prize, the critique from that one judge ended up dampening my spirits.

    Being singled out from the rest of the group really had an impact on me. Though our mind doesn’t understand why we might experience certain anxieties and fears as we get older, the child that experienced that pain still lives within us.

    And the judge from a dance competition becomes an inner judge that critiques us before a work shift as a cashier. “Smile bigger!!!” he says.

    It’s both the small moments and big moments of pain that stick around with us. And as much as our adult mind can dismiss the experience by thinking, “Oh, it was just one thing someone said, that’s not a big deal,” to that little kid, it is. It’s a really big deal!

    And that leads me to the first myth we have about anxiety: that there’s something wrong with us.

    If you have experienced any form of anxiety, there’s nothing wrong with you. Actually, your internal system is working exactly as it was designed! To avoid a possible future “threat” (in this case, the embarrassment from the judge in my story), we create an inner judge to “fix” what was wrong (in this case, not smiling big enough at the dance performance), which will hopefully avoid having someone critique us from the outside (at work).

    It’s a weird way that our inner world works, but it’s doing its job. Because the truth is, yes, if you spend twenty-four hours before a work shift to mentally prepare yourself for smiling big at work, then you’ll most likely smile big at work and no one will critique you for being a downer.

    Now, when it starts to get really difficult is when you stop having the energy to perform for the world. It becomes extra challenging when your inner critic makes you feel like you’re not enough. It’s usually around this time that people start looking for some help, because even though their inner world is doing its job, it becomes exhausting to keep up with it.

    Which leads me to the second myth around having anxiety: that if you have anxiety, you’ll have it forever.

    A lot of people believe that if someone gives you a label, that label has to last forever. Not me, though. For example, when my doctor told me I had moderate generalized anxiety disorder, I decided that it wasn’t going to be like that for the rest of my life and that I would do what I needed to do to heal the anxiety.

    Anxiety isn’t something you need to “cope” with. I recently suggested a tool to a client, a young woman, and she said, “Oh, yay another coping mechanism!” As excited as she was to try something new, I had to be authentic and let her know that her anxiety wasn’t something she merely had to cope with; it was something that could be transformed.

    The first step to transforming your anxiety is getting aware of what your dominant thoughts are. Oftentimes, it’s the hypercritical thoughts that are causing the anxiety. When we can become aware of these thoughts, we can then ask where they originated from.

    Just like how I have an origin story for my anxiety, you do too! Oftentimes, there’s more than one origin story—a culmination of origin stories—but it helps to start with one.

    The more open you are to healing through your story, and the more willing you are to transform, the more you’ll shift. Your anxiety doesn’t have to be in the driver’s seat of your life forever. It’s even allowed to be a passenger.

    And that leads us to the third and final myth around anxiety: that to heal, you must be completely anxiety-free and completely at peace at all times.

    The truth is, in my six years of healing, anxiety has popped its head up from time to time. The first time I offered workshops, I was a nervous wreck for weeks.

    I’ll still feel anxious if I’m trying something new, but the way I respond is different.

    When we start to heal, it creates a strength within us that allows us to show up differently in our life. Even though I felt really nervous to put myself out there in my career, I had the inner strength to go for it! That’s because anxiety was no longer steering the vehicle of my life.

    It became a welcome passenger.

    The truth is, if anxiety comes from that inner kid and her experiences, then I don’t want to kick her out of the car. That little girl deserves a safe space in my life.

    When anxiety pops her head up, I say hello. I journal from her voice, I talk to her, and I let her know it’s going to be okay.

    I remind her that I’m the opposite of that judge from that day, and that I will be the one to uplift and empower her. That she is welcome on my journey to show up whenever she wants to. And that I’d love to have her join me for the ride.

    I’m here to show her all of the magic that’s inside of her. And I’m here to remind her of her gifts and talents—the ones that no one can take away from her. She is a welcome passenger, and I will be driving the car to our greatest good.

    My experience with anxiety and the healing that came along with it has taught me to be kinder to myself, to see the human behind their mask, and to be a walking example of inner peace.

    Perhaps the more difficult moments of our life are also the ones that shape us into more of who we’re meant to become.

  • Anxiety Is When…

    Anxiety Is When…

  • How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness: 4 Powerful Steps

    How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness: 4 Powerful Steps

    “Feelings come and go, like clouds in the sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    In today’s fast-paced world, it’s easy to find ourselves caught in a whirlwind of intense emotions.

    Whether it’s the stress of looming deadlines, the anxiety of an uncertain future, or the frustration of unexpected setbacks, intense feelings often hijack our mental well-being, leaving us feeling drained and powerless in their wake.

    In such moments, our instinctual response is often to either suppress these emotions or allow them to dictate our actions, leading to a cycle of reactivity and emotional turbulence.

    Growing up, I learned to fear emotions. In my tumultuous home, it often felt like there was no room for feelings—they were either ignored, mocked, or punished. I adapted by suppressing my emotions and disconnecting from my heart.

    I became a quiet, shy, and sensitive child who didn’t make waves, the proverbial good girl, always pleasing and performing, never complaining, saying no, or acting out. Disconnected from myself, I had trouble connecting with others.

    I began disappearing into my own world. Convinced there was something wrong with me, I lived in a perpetual state of internal angst and shame, wanting and fearing connection all at once. For years I was plagued with codependency, negativity, c-PTSD symptoms, one-sided relationships, anxiety, and anger buried so deep I didn’t even see it. I lived on autopilot—successful by external standards but internally in emotional turmoil.

    It was only after becoming a parent that all that I buried within began to surface, catching me off guard. Parenting, more challenging than I ever anticipated, forced me to confront the pain, trauma, and difficult truths that I had been repressing all my life. I began to unravel.

    When we live on autopilot, we become slaves to our reactions, blindly following the same patterns of behavior without pausing to consider their consequences. I know I was—feeling lost in a whirlwind of suppressed emotions and disconnected from my true self.

    But amidst the chaos of my internal turmoil, I discovered a transformative path forward: mindfulness. This ancient practice became my beacon of clarity in the midst of emotional storms, inviting me to step off the treadmill of reactivity and into the present moment.

    By embracing mindfulness, I learned to approach my intense emotions with curiosity and compassion, gradually unraveling the layers of pain and trauma buried deep within. In the process, I unearthed a reservoir of resilience, wisdom, and love buried deep within me.

    How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness

    Emotions are an integral part of the human experience, and they often manifest as sensations in our bodies. They arise in response to challenging situations or perceived threats, and our immediate response is often automatic and primal. However, by fostering greater self-awareness and empathy toward our own emotional experiences, we can begin to navigate the landscape of intense feelings with greater clarity and resilience.

    Step 1: Name It in the body.

    Think about a recent situation that stirred up strong emotions within you. It could be a disagreement with a loved one, a work-related challenge, or even a personal setback. Pause and ask yourself: What did you feel in your body during that moment? Did your chest tighten, your heart race, or your eyes well up?

    When my kids were younger, I was plagued by anxiety. Between a lack of sleep, having to be “on” 24/7 as a parent, the stress of trying to make a living, and feeling all alone (we moved across the country), I was constantly on edge. And so, I would react to small things with big emotions. It always started with my body tensing up and my heart suddenly racing while thoughts like, “I can’t handle this!” ran through my head.

    Emotions first show up as sensations in the body. We have no control over these natural responses—they’re programmed into our DNA. The good news is that these bodily sensations are like emotional signposts. If we pay attention, we can recognize what they are trying to tell us. And by naming what comes up, we can gain clarity and understand what is unfolding within us. It’s an empowering first step to mindful emotional processing.

    Step 2: Breathe into it.

    Mindfulness teaches us to pay attention. It allows us to recognize what is happening in our body, with compassion and without judgment. That awareness is power—the power to respond from our authentic selves instead of reacting from our habitual selves.

    Think back to a time when you had a heated argument with a loved one. Your immediate reaction was likely intense, with emotions running high. But what if, in that moment, you had taken a deep breath and allowed yourself to pause?

    When we are triggered, the primal part of our brain gets activated first, well before our intellectual brain gets the signal. The amygdala (our reptilian brain) controls our automatic reactions, which depend on our upbringing, defenses, and coping mechanisms we developed over the years. Taking a few deep breaths allows us to halt this reaction just long enough for our pre-frontal cortex and intellect to kick in.

    Over time, this simple act of focusing on breathing while being flooded with waves of intense emotions helped me stay calm in stressful situations and tampered down my reactions. It was often just enough for me to regain perspective and respond as an adult, not an overwhelmed child still trying to be seen or heard. Now if I feel triggered or ungrounded, I remember to stay focused on the breath. It always carries me to the other side.

    Step 3: Remember that emotions are energy in motion.

    Emotions are energy, and they’re always in motion. We get stuck on feelings because we disconnect from them, repress them, and pretend they’re not there. Or we hold onto them. We let them fester. They don’t get processed and then released, so we can’t move on.

    Working through emotions starts with simply allowing them to be. We’re no longer fighting them, getting stuck on them, or running from what comes up. Instead, we let the feelings come and go, without attaching a story. It’s good to practice this when you’re calm, so that you know what to do in the heat of the moment.

    Learn to just notice and allow what happens to you internally. As you observe the sensations in your body and feel what comes up, bring a sense of compassion for yourself, especially if intense feelings show up. This is difficult work, so take baby steps and make sure you take care of yourself daily—body and mind.

    Mindfulness teaches us to accept all emotions and increases our window of tolerance to stressors. We get more resilient and authentic. We begin to listen to our feelings with openness, non-judgment, and compassion—and that’s transformative.

    Feelings are messengers. They inform us about what we value and what we don’t want. For me, the anxiety was screaming at me to start taking care of myself. I was neck-deep in raising children and working and running a house, and I neglected to show up for myself. The truth is, I was deeply unhappy, and once I accepted that, I was able to draw some boundaries and change what wasn’t working.

    Think of the last time you experienced disappointment or frustration. Instead of pushing these feelings away, allow your emotions to just be there without judgment. Focus on your body. Where is that feeling located? What does it look like? What does it need from you? Whatever comes up, give it attention.

    As you observe these sensations, you can journal about them, or take them for a walk. Maybe your body needs to shake it off or dance it out. Do whatever feels right to move that energy through and out of your body. By engaging with your emotions, you enable them to flow through you, rather than stagnate and fester.

    Step 4: Respond from your wise self.

    Awareness is half of the equation; the other half is action—and how you respond depends on your state of mind. With mindfulness, you don’t get swept up in the turmoil of emotional reactions; you’re no longer allowing autopilot to take you for a spin. Instead, you notice, breathe through what is, and tap into a higher perspective. And then you choose your response based on what makes sense for you.

    Ask yourself, “What’s the best way to handle this situation?” Do you need to take action, advocate for yourself, set a boundary, reach out for support, step back and regroup, or take care of yourself to restore and rebalance your energy?

    For me, overcoming anxiety was a journey of learning to recognize when anxiety arose, to breathe through the discomfort with compassion, and to choose a response that aligned with my values and well-being.

    Whether it was removing myself from triggering spaces and situations, taking more time for myself, seeking support, or letting go of perfection, I started prioritizing my health and well-being. It wasn’t always easy, and I had to let some things go, but slowly I shifted toward inner peace and authenticity.

    I also learned to not take things personally, recognizing that everyone experiences challenging emotions and that responding gracefully is a sign of strength.

    —

    If emotional regulation was not modeled for you growing up, it can feel like navigating through a minefield. For years, I struggled with understanding and managing my feelings, which, in turn, impacted my relationships, my well-being, and my overall happiness.

    With mindfulness and consistent practice, however, I was able to break free from old patterns, heal from past wounds, and cultivate emotional resilience and well-being. Intense emotions started to lose their grip on me, and I became more peaceful and less reactive. I discovered the grace of self-compassion and learned to ride the waves of big feelings, knowing that they would eventually subside.

    Emotions are an intricate part of our lives, and using mindfulness can help us navigate them more effectively. We don’t have to fear them. It’s possible to regulate our emotions and cultivate a more mindful and graceful approach to life’s challenges.

    By actively engaging with our emotions, rather than reacting on instinct, we can unlock a newfound sense of control and wisdom, creating a more harmonious relationship with our emotions and the world around us.

  • How to Find Peace When Your Mind Is Restless

    How to Find Peace When Your Mind Is Restless

    “Within you, there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself.” ~Hermann Hesse

    When I work with people who are suffering from anxiety, fear, grief, or other challenging issues, I like to take them through a simple exercise I call “The Noticing Exercise.”

    It’s my first port of call when helping people break free from mind-created suffering.

    It’s amazing how quickly, and effortlessly, people can move from suffering to peace, simply through shifting their focus to being aware of the present moment—noticing the sensation of the body touching the chair, the ribs expanding on the in breath, or the sounds in the room.

    Even deeply troubled individuals can experience peace the very first time they try this simple meditation.

    How is this possible?

    It is because peace is already there inside all of us. It’s an integral part of who we are. When the mind’s activity subsides, even for a moment, peace is what remains.

    The ocean provides a good analogy.

    At the surface, the water is constantly in motion. It never stops, even for a moment. But when you drop down into the depths, there is stillness and peace.

    It’s exactly the same with the mind.

    On the surface level, the mind is always active but, in the depths of our being, there is a natural peace and stillness that is unchanging… always present, always available. Being part of our essential nature, it can never leave us.

    Although this inherent peace is always there, it goes unnoticed in most people through the deep-seated habit of giving our exclusive attention to the surface movements of the mind.

    We are so pre-occupied with what’s going on at the surface that we simply fail to notice what’s happening in the depths of our experience.

    And, of course, there is nothing ‘wrong’ with any of this.

    Spending our days lost in thinking is the human condition. It’s what we all do.

    Being swept away by the restless waters of the mind is perfectly normal, particularly when we are faced with intense patterns such as anxiety, trauma, or grief. And yet, the fact remains that, despite appearances, there is a peace inside every one of us that is untouched by what’s going on at the surface, however intense it may be.

    Withdraw your attention from the mind, even for a moment, and it’s there.

    You don’t have to create it; just recognize what has always been there.

    Peace doesn’t leave you. You leave peace.

    Stress, anxiety, and unhappiness exist primarily in the form of thoughts.

    If you are able to become fully present in the moment, thoughts subside, and stress and anxiety are replaced by peace and stillness.

    Of course, most people will pick up their painful stories again as soon as the meditation comes to an end, but the fact they were able to be free of their suffering, even temporarily, provides us with clues for finding a more permanent solution.

    With practice, anyone can learn to withdraw their attention from the mind for longer periods of time and thereby extend the periods of peace.

    Have You Been Barking Up the Wrong Tree?

    Most people are looking for peace where it can never be found—not lasting peace anyway.

    It’s a bit like losing your keys in the house and looking for them in the garden.

    You’re never going to find them… because they are not there.

    Most people I help have been searching for peace through the path of self-improvement, often for years.

    And it makes total sense.

    If my mind is causing me trouble, then the obvious solution is to try to fix it—to ‘work on myself’ and try to convert all my anxious and unhappy thoughts and feelings into pleasant, happy ones. Try to create a new, improved version of myself.

    But, if you’ve been down this path for any length of time, as I have, you’ll know that fundamentally changing the mind is not so easy.

    The problem with this approach is encapsulated in the following quote from the Indian spiritual teacher, Nisargadatta:

    “There is no such thing as peace of mind. Mind means disturbance; restlessness itself is mind.”

    Like the surface of the ocean, the mind is constantly in motion. It is restless by nature.

    And, although there may well be fleeting moments of peace here and there, they will inevitably be followed by moments of agitation and disturbance.

    Restlessness is the nature of the mind. Trying to make it calm and peaceful is like trying to iron the surface of the ocean. It’s simply never going to happen.

    Making Peace with The Mind Just as It Is

    To find a solution that actually works, we must first understand the true cause of suffering. It’s not what most folks think.

    People believe, as I did for years, that the anxious, stressful, or fearful thoughts themselves are the primary cause of suffering.

    They believe that:

    • the mind is broken and needs to be fixed.
    • anxiety, fear, confusion, etc. are inherently bad or wrong.
    • there’s something wrong with them for having these thoughts.
    • they can’t experience peace or happiness until they are gone.

    These beliefs are the main reason people suffer.

    As the Jesuit priest Anthony de Mello said:

    “There’s only one cause of unhappiness; the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so common, so widespread, that it never occurs to you to question them.”

    What if, instead of spending years trying to fix the content of the mind, we focused instead on making peace with the mind, just as it is?

    What if, rather than fighting and resisting fear, sadness, envy, or confusion, you were able to accept them as natural expressions of the human condition?

    What would happen to your anxiety if you didn’t see anything ‘wrong’ with it?

    Or your sadness if you didn’t mind it being there?

    They may still feel unpleasant but, in the absence of resistance, they’d lose their power to affect your peace.

    We can wrap our non-peace in the peace of acceptance.

    You Don’t Need to Have a Peaceful Mind to Experience Peace 

    On the path of self-improvement, the goal is to find peace of mind.

    But this approach is unlikely to succeed simply because the mind is restless by nature.

    Here’s the truth:

    You can’t stop bothersome thoughts from arising, but you can stop bothering about them.

    One of my teachers used to say, “You suffer because you are open for business.”

    You entertain your thoughts and invite them in for tea—engage with them, ruminate over them, wallow in them, play them over and over in your head—and create suffering for yourself as a result.

    You don’t need to have a peaceful mind to experience peace.

    You need to stop giving your thoughts so much attention and importance.

    If you are able to accept whatever appears in your head, whether pleasant or unpleasant, with an attitude of non-judgmental acceptance, you will always be at peace.

    Acceptance is like kryptonite to the mind. It loses its power to disturb your peace.

    The Two Types of Peace

    There are two types of peace.

    There is the feeling of peace, which is a temporary respite from feeling restless or agitated. Like all feelings, it comes and goes, like clouds passing across the sky.

    Then there is the peace that exists in the depths of your being; the backdrop of peace that is unchanging, ever-present, and has nothing to do with what is going on in your head.

    Even in the midst of the most turbulent storm at sea, in the depths, the ocean remains calm and unmoving.

    There is a peace inside every one of us that remains untouched by the movements on the surface, no matter how intense.

    And it’s not difficult to find. How could it be if it’s already who you are?

    You don’t need to fix or change anything about yourself to experience what is ever-present inside you.

    You just need to dive below the surface and discover what is always there.

    The peace you are looking for is with you always. But you’ll never find it on the level of the mind.

  • How I Healed My Anxiety with Simple Mindfulness Practices

    How I Healed My Anxiety with Simple Mindfulness Practices

    “Every step taken in mindfulness brings us one step closer to healing ourselves and the planet.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    When I returned from an extended stay in India at the beginning of this year, I was full of worries and uncertainty. Since I was coming back to a very different life, I had no idea what was next.

    I was without a job but determined to build my coaching business full-time. However, I felt lost as to where I was going to be within the next few months and how I was going to figure things out.

    Eventually, I settled down and started to think. I desperately wanted to go back, but I knew I had to take care of my responsibilities in the states before I could leave again.

    I started to work on my business and was lucky to get a few yoga classes to teach. However, the uncertainty of finances was weighing on me.

    I was always a person who planned my life and took only the safest steps. Suddenly, I was living day by day, not knowing what was going to happen or how I was going to take care of myself. It felt incredibly liberating and scary at the same time.

    After a few months, I got a severe infection in my tooth. Since, at that time, I was without insurance, I did anything I could to avoid visiting a dentist. One night it got so bad, I almost ran to an emergency room.

    At the same time, I developed tremors in my body while becoming increasingly fatigued and lethargic. This got me worried. At first, I thought it was due to the infection in my tooth. However, once the tooth was out, lethargy, fatigue, and shaking persisted.

    A couple of weeks later, my entire chest and face developed some allergic reaction that had no logical explanation.

    Due to all these unexpected and unexplainable health events, I felt desperate and powerless. One day, after another episode of intense tremors and lethargy, I drove to my friend to measure my blood pressure. After she told me my pressure was in perfect condition, I broke down crying. I had no idea what was going on.

    Although I knew that googling my symptoms was the last thing I should do, I did it anyway. No matter what I put in a search, anxiety seemed to be on the top of the list. I reflected on the past couple of months and realized I had been under tremendous pressure. I became increasingly pessimistic and afraid, always turning to a worst-case scenario.

    It was no surprise that this took a toll on my body.

    Since I had some knowledge and understanding of neuroscience and how negative thoughts affect the body, I realized something. If I can make myself sick and anxious by thoughts alone, I can make myself healthy, can’t I?

    Here is what I decided to do.

    1. I began a daily mindfulness practice.

    I knew that to heal my anxiety, I had to be super conscious of what was going on in my head. One thing I understood was that anxiety is worrying about the future, which hasn’t happened yet.

    To sharpen my awareness, I set an alarm for every hour of the day to check in with myself. Once the alarm went off, I asked myself, “How am I feeling? What am I thinking?”

    This allowed me to become more aware of subtle thoughts of worries and negativity.

    Through this daily exercise, I realized how negative I could be. The moment things didn’t go as I wanted them to, it threw me off course and created internal panic.

    I also incorporated mindfulness meditation and pranayama into my daily yoga and meditation practice. First, I would do different breathing exercises I learned in India to activate my parasympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for relaxation. Then, I would sit in silence while focusing on my breath and observing my thoughts.

    Every time a thought of worry entered my mind, I reminded myself that this was only a thought, and it wouldn’t have a meaning unless I gave it one.

    2. I focused on possibilities instead of obstacles.

    Although I was less than thrilled about my fear and anxiety, I understood that these emotions were here to tell me something. If it wasn’t for them, I would never have begun paying such close attention to the way I think.

    After recognizing how I was bringing myself down, I decided to create a more uplifting and positive environment around me.

    I have a big chalkboard above my worktable that I use to write positive affirmations, simple reminders, or quotes that feel empowering. I took a sock from my drawer and wiped everything on it clean.

    Then I grabbed my white chalk marker and wrote in giant letters, “What is the BEST thing that could happen?”

    This question was a reminder for me every day that where my focus goes, energy flows. If I wanted to heal my anxiety, I had to learn to better self-regulate.

    I also understood that instead of pushing my ‘negative’ thoughts away, I could attune to them, listen to them, and understand where they were coming from. They weren’t barriers but healing opportunities.

    For example, I had lots of negative thoughts regarding finances. I felt like a victim because my parents weren’t able to support me through difficult times. Once I ended my pity party, I realized I was holding many limiting beliefs about money and that I didn’t believe I was worthy of having more. So I started learning about investing and the mindset needed for financial health, and it’s changed the way I view and handle money ever since.

    3. I welcomed solitude.

    After realizing that anxiety has been a big part of my life for years, I decided to spend more time in solitude.

    The interesting thing about this was that it felt natural. I didn’t feel as if I was missing out on something. As a matter of fact, it gave me space to reflect on my past. I realized there were so many wounds I’d never healed and pains I’d never acknowledged.

    I also understood that living in a state of anxiety was my normal way of being. My mind and body were accustomed to feeling the emotions of stress and worry, and I didn’t even know it.

    My time in solitude allowed me to see when my anxiety spiked and what kept it alive. Aside from understanding the link between anxiety and my thoughts, I noticed other situations that brought stress. For example, I worried about what people thought of me, placed my worth on reaching my goals, was inauthentic to be liked, or wanted to control things outside of myself.

    When I uncovered these blind spots, I fell in love with solitude. It also gave me more space and time to practice mindfulness and become much better at recognizing when anxiety was creeping in.

    4. I incorporated mindfulness into my regular tasks.

    One of my habits was scrolling through recipes on social media while eating. Although I live alone and there isn’t anyone to distract me with conversations, I realized that I wasn’t mindful of eating at all.

    I decided to put my phone down and observe the taste of the food, the texture, how many times I chewed it, and how I enjoyed it.

    When I went for my evening walk, instead of listening to music or an audiobook, I simply walked. I observed my breath, heartbeat, and the world around me—houses I passed by or palm trees, which were everywhere.

    This intentional mindfulness practice helped me grasp the present moment while realizing that now is all that’s here. As my guru often says, we can’t change this moment; we can only accept it. However, the next moment contains a million possibilities, and if we are present and aware, we can choose how to proceed.

    —

    After about a month of following these steps, something amazing happened.

    I realized that my anxiety was almost gone and my skin rash had completely disappeared, and I was full of energy and optimism. Although my outside situation hadn’t changed much, the way I perceived life and how much I trusted myself had.

    Since then, I sometimes sense anxiety wanting to come in. I immediately feel a slight vibration in my limbs, and my heartbeat rises.

    The moment I observe it, I know it’s time to pause and turn inward because that’s where my healing always takes place.

  • Why I Love My Sober Life: Everything I Gained When I Quit Drinking

    Why I Love My Sober Life: Everything I Gained When I Quit Drinking

    “Sobriety was the greatest gift I ever gave myself.” ~Rob Lowe

    I tried and failed to have a fabulous relationship with alcohol for many years.

    When my children were tiny, I drank far more than was good for me, thinking I was relaxing, unwinding, socializing, and having fun. I’d seen my life shrink down from a world with lots of freedom and vibrancy to a socially restricted void, and I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to join in with everyone else.

    All my birthday cards had bottles of gin or glasses of fizz on them, all the Friday afternoon memes on social media were about “wine o’clock,” and I wanted to be part of that world.

    The opening of a bottle in the evening had me thinking I was changing gear, moving from stressed to relaxed, and treating myself to some self-care. Nothing could have been further from the truth; the alcohol made me wake during the night and gave me low-level anxiety and an almost permanent brain fog.

    I’m not proud of the drinking I did when the kids were small. I now feel a deep sense of shame about that time. I’d created such a happy life for myself—lovely husband and kids, nice house in a great town, wonderful friends. What was I drinking to escape from?

    On the outside I looked like I had it all, but I didn’t—I had overwhelm.

    I was a wife and family member, a mum to two small children, an employee, and a freelancer… I had all the roles I’d longed for, and yet it was all too much.

    I didn’t know how to let go of some of my responsibilities, and I didn’t know how to cope with everything that was going on in my life. Alcohol felt like the treat I deserved. It took me a while to figure out that alcohol was the common theme in my rubbish decision-making, tiredness, and grumpiness.

    I’d spent a long time feeling trapped and stuck. I knew I wanted to stop drinking, but I was worried about what others would think of me, how I would feel at parties without a drink in my hand, and whether I’d be able to relax properly at the weekends.

    I kept going back and forth, deciding I’d stop, then changing my mind, thinking I wouldn’t or couldn’t. It was a hellish merry-go-round. When I was forty-one, I finally made the decision to quit alcohol for a year as a little life experiment. I wanted to see how I would feel without it for an extended period of time.

    I decided to take a bold action in autumn 2019. I told a group of online friends that I was not going to drink alcohol for the whole of 2020, and once I had said it out loud, I knew I would have to do it.

    This step toward accountability really helped me to move forward with my sober mission. I started to count down to 2020 (still binge drinking), wondering how this experiment was going to go!

    Toward the end of 2019, my mindset began to shift. Instead of dreading the start of 2020, I started to look forward to it. I made plans that I knew would lead to a successful sober year. I read books about quitting, listened to inspiring podcasts, and watched films or documentaries that didn’t show alcohol consumption in a glamorous light. I followed people who were a few steps ahead of me on their sober journey. I asked questions and I followed advice.

    I had my last drink on Dec 8th, 2019—nothing monumental, out with a few friends and no hangover the next day. It was a total non-event!

    I wanted to have a year without alcohol to know if life would be stressful, lonely, or boring like I’d led myself to believe, or if it was possible to relax, connect with others, and have fun without a drink. The hangovers and brain fog were getting worse. In my late thirties and early forties, I just couldn’t get away with it like I had in my twenties.

    I wanted to be a more patient parent—no more selfishly rushing the kids through bedtime because I wanted to get back downstairs to my drink.

    I wanted hangover-free weekends to enjoy my time away from work.

    I wanted to maximize my nutritional choices—no more rubbish food choices dictated by low-level hangovers, or high-level ones for that matter.

    I wanted to sleep deeply and wake up feeling rested and ready for the day ahead.

    I wanted to know I was giving myself the best chance at not getting high blood pressure, heart disease, liver disease, cancer, dementia, or a compromised immune system.

    I went through the whole of 2020 without a drink. There were some tough days to navigate, some challenging events to negotiate, and awkward conversations to have with friends, but I did it all, and I did it all sober.

    When 2021 rolled around, I knew I wasn’t going to go back to how I’d drunk before. I had changed my relationship with alcohol for the better. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually a different person, and I didn’t want to go back to numbing my feelings.

    It’s easy to name all the benefits to our bodies and minds when we cut alcohol out—deeper sleep, clearer skin, better mood, more energy, and less anxiety, to name a few—but for me, the real shift has come a couple of years down the line. I feel more spiritually open than I’ve ever felt before, and I cannot wait to see what unfolds next for all of those of us on this sober-curious journey.

  • 7 Pillars of Mental Health: How to Feel Your Best (Almost) Every Day

    7 Pillars of Mental Health: How to Feel Your Best (Almost) Every Day

    “Sending love to everyone who’s doing their best to heal from things they don’t discuss.” ~Unknown

    When I was twelve years old, I planned on taking my own life. I had a plan, I had the means, and I thought about it every single day for months. No one was aware—not my family, not my best friends, not my teachers at school or my peers. It would have been a huge surprise in my community had I attempted it, because I didn’t appear as someone who was severely depressed.

    Thankfully, I never acted on it, and fifteen years later I can speak about it easily, as I have truly healed my mind, and I doubt I will ever again experience such darkness.

    Over the years, my anxiety and depression morphed into a variety of different symptoms including eating disorders, substance abuse, and a deep lack of self-love and trust. Finally, I received some diagnoses between the ages of eighteen and nineteen, and I decided to jump headfirst into healing.

    Living with bipolar disorder, anxiety, and ADHD is not always easy, especially because I decided not to take any medication. (A personal choice that was right for me but might not be right for all.) After many years of trial and error, I’ve managed to cultivate a lifestyle that is fully conducive to healing my mind, and I uphold this healing lifestyle as my priority every single day.

    As I reflect on times in my life when I haven’t been at my best, or when I’ve fallen into a depressive episode, there are always aspects of my self-care routine that have fallen to the wayside. On the contrary, when I am at my high functioning, life-loving best self, I am effortlessly practicing what I call my seven pillars of mental health!

    I learned from experience what science also proves is good for us, and I promise that if you focus on these seven areas of your life most days (if not every day), you will feel better for it!

    1. Exercise

    When we exercise, our brain releases endorphins and a host of feel-good chemicals, which are essential for making us feel calm, content, and happy! Exercise is not only great for our brains, but also helps to boost our self-confidence, increase our energy, and boost our immunity, and has many positive effects for our body.

    The key here is consistency; double blind studies have found twenty minutes of daily exercise to be as effective at increasing levels of well-being as leading antidepressants. Let that sink in!

    Moving my body every single day has been a huge priority of mine for years, and it became even easier when I found hobbies that offer fun while I’m exercising! For me, that means going hiking, rock climbing, skiing, highlining, and pretty much anything else that gets me outdoors, in nature, and moving around.

    Find a way to move your body that you genuinely enjoy. It shouldn’t feel like a chore. You could go for a walk in nature with a friend, have a dance party in your kitchen, or try a new hobby or sport. Move your body, every single day, and feel the lasting benefits!

    2. Sleep

    Oh, elusive sleep, how important you are! Sleep is a crucial time for our bodies to regenerate cells, to integrate and process emotions, and to turn the lessons from our days into memories.

    When we have a poor sleep, we not only feel the effects the next day, but at least two days later (and sometimes even longer). Improving our sleep leads to lower levels of stress and anxiety, better cognitive functioning, stronger immune systems, and more energy.

    A huge shift in my mental health journey came when I decided to prioritize having a beautiful day over staying up late at a bar and sleeping the next day away. (Besides, that hike won’t feel nearly as fun if you stayed up drinking until 4 a.m.) Having a beautiful morning begins the night before, and you deserve to enjoy the daytime!

    Here are some tips to improve your sleep:

    • Go to bed and wake up at a similar time each day (ideally before 10 p.m., as the majority of your HGH, a hormone essential for cellular growth and repair, is released between 10 p.m. and 12 a.m. while you sleep)
    • Turn off the screens at least one hour before bed, if not sooner
    • Avoid eating a big meal at least two hours before bed
    • Set up your sleeping space to be dark, quiet, and at a cool temperature

     3. Nutrition

    You truly are what you eat, my friends! Not only does the food you consume literally become the cells that make up your body, but you also have an entire nervous system in your gut.

    The Enteric Nervous System (ENS) is where the majority of your serotonin and dopamine are produced. When our guts are healthy, our minds feel the benefits, and vice versa. This is also why IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) and anxiety are so closely linked, and why, for some, IBS can actually be cured with meditation and hypnotherapy.

    Nutrition plans are so specific for everybody, but some guidelines that are helpful to follow are:

    • Eat seasonally
    • Eat locally
    • Eat a wide variety of whole foods
    • Avoid processed foods (easier said than done, go easy on yourself)

    How you eat is equally as important as what you eat. Allow yourself to slow down, bring a moment of mindfulness into every meal, and practice gratitude for the miracles that brought this nourishment to your plate. I absolutely love food, and bringing in these simple adaptations had a huge impact on both my gut health (goodbye, IBS) and my mood.

    4. Meditation and mindfulness

    Modern science is proving what ancient wisdom has been saying for centuries. Meditating for as little as five minutes a day leads to lower stress and anxiety, improved sleep, enhanced creativity, and a huge host of other benefits! Download a free meditation app and give yourself a simple five minutes of time in the morning; your mind will thank you!

    Mindfulness is something that can be practiced throughout every moment of the day. It is simply an awareness of your thoughts, feelings, and the present moment. A trick I like to use is to post little sticky notes around my house with words like “pause” and “breathe.” Whenever I see a note, I’m reminded to take a moment to be mindful, check in with myself, and take a deep breath.

    5. Connection with nature and source

    The only two things that consistently increase our well-being more than we expect them to are exercise and time in nature. We are natural beings, and when we experience poor mental health, it often stems from a feeling of disconnection. Reconnecting with nature, reconnecting with source/ divinity/ spirit, and reminding yourself of the bigger picture you play in the universe can do wonders for your mood!

    As a menstruating woman, connecting with nature also means connecting with my body and tuning into my cycle. We require different things at different times of the month, and tuning into these rhythms is a beautiful way to reconnect to the cycles of nature all around us.

    6. Connection with humans

    You are the sum of the five people that you spend the most time with. What inspires you about them? What do you love about them? The cool thing is that they’re thinking the same things about you!

    We are social creatures, and we need each other, as mirrors, in order to thrive. Make a date to see a good friend this week, text someone you haven’t spoken to in a while just to tell them you love them, and flex your social muscle!

    When I first started figuring out my pillars of mental health, I thought that if I simply did the things to take care of myself, that was enough. I was quickly reminded that feeling happy is much better when shared.

    7. Good old-fashioned self-care

    Although prioritizing the above six pillars make up a rigorous self-care routine, it is still so essential to take “me time” and do whatever recharges you. This might be a hot bath, a day to yourself, or a gorgeous restful evening, but whatever it is for you, make sure you prioritize it!

    Upholding these seven pillars of mental health allows me to live a healthy, happy life, without medication, even with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder (among other things). (Again, not something I’m recommending for all—everyone’s situation and needs are different!)

    No matter what your mental health journey has looked like, I promise that if you prioritize each of these pillars, and always make the next best decision for yourself, you will find healing, just as I have.

  • How I Calm My Anxiety Octopus at Home with My Aquaponics Zen Zone

    How I Calm My Anxiety Octopus at Home with My Aquaponics Zen Zone

    “Stay in the moment. The practice of staying present will heal you. Obsessing about how the future will turn out creates anxiety. Replaying broken scenarios from the past causes anger and sadness. Stay here, in this moment.” ~Sylvester McNutt

    Like many people, I have an anxiety disorder that twists my thoughts and feelings. I call it my “anxiety octopus,” as it feels like there are tentacles in my brain triggering fear-based reactions for no reason. In everything, even things that I am confident in, I suddenly feel insecure and unsure.

    It takes time to realize that the “anxiety octopus” has woken and is stretching, almost testing my powers of resilience that day.

    Today was one of those days where my resilience was low, and it took time to notice that the octopus had woken.

    There was nothing that triggered it, nothing special about today. Just a cold morning with the sun popping its head out, a morning that I normally love the briskness of, yet today, it was hard to get started. My feline alarm clocks kept meowing, even when I gave a morning pat.

    They wanted me up. The “anxiety octopus” didn’t.

    Sometimes when your heart races so hard, you fear that you are going to have a heart attack. That’s how it was this morning. Heart racing, inability to think, sweating profusely, your breathing becomes shallow, and you feel this intense fear, for no reason.

    This is the point where my doctors say, “Take medication.” This is where I think to myself, “Connect with my Zen.”

    You’ve probably heard of the power of garden therapy, which is incredible. But I’m an Aries woman, a fire sign that loves to flare; the Earth doesn’t actually calm me down or help with my anxiety. It does for many, but not for me. I need water to balance me out.

    My Zen Zone is my aquaponics systems. Yes, I have more than one. Truth be told, I have five and two more planned. Aquaponics is a form of gardening that you can do in any space; however, unlike soil gardening, it is growing food with water constantly cycling through it in a sustainable way. 

    Not to be confused with hydroponics, which also grows food with water and synthetic nutrients in an artificial system, aquaponics in a man-made (or woman-made, in my case) ecosystem. We have freshwater fish (mine are friends, not food) that provide fertilizer for the veggies, and the veggies filter the water for the fish. They both have their own space within an aquaponics system, and being closed-looped, the water is fully recycled.

    With constant fertilizer from the fish and water continuously flowing through the system, the veggies are in plant heaven. They grow faster in this system that is replicating nature. This is not a new fad; in fact, it’s a concept dating back 4000 years BC.

    Other than being a food growing system, which is totally awesome and in a changing world, necessary, it is also my Zen Zone.

    It helps to balance my fire energy and calm me down. Sitting outside by my little courtyard aquaponics system, powered by goldfish, this morning, I sat watching the fish swim and the veggies that are thriving, and I could finally breathe again.

    It’s as if hearing that water flowing gently through the aquaponics system was a signal for the “anxiety octopus” to go back to sleep. As if it connected with the water and found its peace.

    Obviously, there is no octopus in my mind, and this is how I manage my anxiety with these thoughts, but it is what works for me.

    I find peace in hearing the water, seeing the fish swimming, and smelling the herbs that are right there. I have a lot growing in this small system; you can get so much produce in a small space because the water filled with fertilizer passes through it all, whereas soil gardens are more limited.

    It makes me smile, as I know I have food security in my small space, no matter what happens.

    I think the best part is this little system costs me $10 per year to run based on the watts of the water pump. That is the cost to help control the “anxiety octopus” in my mind.

    It’s always fascinating to watch people’s reaction when they come to my home. I’m very private, and at times people visit for various reasons. Not one to be normal, my home is not just filled with animals (both living and artwork), but my unique aquatic family.

    As people move down the hallway, talking about what is going on in their life, I watch as they enter the dining room, where I have four very special aquariums. My first aquatic family. I see the excitement in their eyes, and I realize that my aquatic family are being better hosts than I am. I have a passion for the Murray-Darling Basin, so all my fish are native to the region. My Murray Cod, Eel-tailed catfish, Bass, and even my turtles are natives and mostly extroverts.

    However, the excitement changes as I take them out back to my main aquaponics system and courtyard aquaponics system. I watch them take a deep breath and, in that moment, I see something they are often unaware of.

    As they breathe deeply watching the fish and veggies moving slowly in the breeze, I see their “anxiety octopus” go to sleep too. Everything about them changes. It’s like they come home to a place within themselves that they had forgotten.

    In that moment, I feel I have done something I have been put here on this Earth to do. To help another person breathe again. Just by showing them my aquaponics systems and how they work. I reconnect them with nature too, as well as help them to find their flow.

    Sometimes no words are needed; just listening to the water and seeing something else being in balance, which is what aquaponics is all about, helps them to balance themselves out too.

    It’s not your conventional form of garden therapy. In fact, this only takes me ten minutes a day to maintain, so I have a lot of time to spend relaxing by the flowing water.

    There is something incredibly special about aquaponics, something that is often known but forgotten: Everything is interconnected, just as all things in life are.

    The fish cannot live without being in an ecosystem where the bacteria convert their waste into useable fertilizer, and the plants need to filter the water using the fertilizer. In that system, everything is interconnected.

    The lesson here is that when my “anxiety octopus” awakens, this interconnectedness ceases to happen. At this point, I need to trigger my awareness of this, and reconnect with everything. For me, as I sit by my aquaponics systems, feeling myself breathe a bit deeper, feeling my heart rate slow a little, I start to reconnect to the interconnectedness of myself—how my body works, how my mind works, and how I am an amazing soul put on this earth for a reason.

    You need to find what works for you to be able to do this. But no matter what you find to bring peace and balance into your life, remember this: We are all here for a reason. It doesn’t feel like it sometimes, and as life hits us in the gut it can feel like we can never get up. Feel like “What’s the point?” I’ve been there.

    For me, it was seeing aquaponics in a different way that got me up. Seeing that I didn’t have to hold onto others’ beliefs, that I could let go of everyone’s crap that I was conditioned to believe. That I could reconnect to the deepest part of myself and my purpose—to share the beauty and power of my Zen Zone and inspire people like yourself to find their own zen and purpose.

  • Navigating Social Anxiety: 10 Powerful NLP Tools for Personal Growth

    Navigating Social Anxiety: 10 Powerful NLP Tools for Personal Growth

    “We need each other, deeper than anyone ever dares to admit even to themselves. I think it is a genetic imperative that we huddle together and hold on to each other.” ~Patch Adams

    A few years ago, I was invited to a work event. When I received the invitation a few months before, the idea seemed fun—a friendly gathering with colleagues, filled with vibrant conversations and laughter, enabling me to create human connections in the workplace.

    As the day approached, a familiar knot tightened in my stomach, I couldn’t breathe deeply, and an overwhelming sense of unease took hold. I was caught in the hand of social anxiety.

    Close to the event, the mere thought of attending sent my mind spiralling into millions of anxious thoughts and self-doubt. The fear of being judged, saying something embarrassing, or feeling awkward became all-consuming. Every scenario played out in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last. My mind went to “making up excuses” mode: from getting sick to imagining the event would be boring—anything to cancel.

    As the day of the event arrived, the intensity of my anxiety escalated. The butterflies in my stomach intensified, my heart raced, and I battled against the urge to retreat into the safety of my home and decline the invitation.

    During the event itself, I found myself on an emotional rollercoaster. Every interaction became a high-stakes performance. My mind raced, searching for the right words, the funny words, the smart words, analyzing every gesture and facial expression.

    My ability to express myself authentically was numbed by a fear of judgment and rejection. I felt like an outsider, trapped in a room filled with people who seemed to effortlessly navigate social situations, which felt utterly foreign to me. This masking left me mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.

    After the event, a wave of relief washed over me as I finally escaped the social arena. I retreated back home, alone, to my safe haven. Unfortunately, my mind was not done racing, as it replayed every conversation and interaction. Self-doubt and self-criticism crept back in, overshadowing any moments of genuine connection or enjoyment I may have experienced.

    Luckily, my story doesn’t end there. This is not me today. I’ve learned to regain control over my inner state and find genuine enjoyment in social interactions with others (even at work). I am also very clear on which social interactions I actually want to join and which are not for me, and I am connected enough to my body that I can choose to say no to fun events on days I need to rest.

    It was through my journey of self-discovery and exploration with the approaches I now coach with, teach, and live by—neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) techniques, yoga, and energy healing—that I began to accept, explore, and then transcend my social (and general) anxiety. Of course, there are still days I have to work harder on it, but overall, I feel in control of my state of being.

    A therapist once gave me this definition of anxiety, which I love and keep using in my life and coaching:

    Anxiety is your level of perceived stress or “danger” over your perceived ability to handle that situation.

    When you perceive a situation as dangerous or stressful and you don’t believe you can handle it, your anxiety will be high and your nervous system in fight-or-flight mode…. potentially chronically.

    Therefore, navigating social anxiety is about lowering your level of perceived stress and strengthening your confidence in your ability to handle life and social interactions, however nourishing or awkward they might be.

    Here are the most important insights I’ve formed, and some practical techniques rooted in NLP and mindfulness that have helped me navigate social anxiety.

    1. Practice self-awareness.

    The first step in overcoming social anxiety is developing self-awareness. Take time to reflect on the situations that trigger your anxiety. Is it speaking in public, meeting new people, or being at work or in general? Or being the center of attention? By clearly identifying these triggers and their contexts, you can begin to understand the underlying thought patterns and beliefs that contribute to your anxiety.

    Practice somatic awareness: Where do you feel those sensations in your body? What colors are they and what texture do they have, if any? Are they warm or cold, stuck or moving? Take a deep breath and allow those feelings to be felt and flow, without judging them.

    Be compassionate with yourself, with your emotions, with the different parts showing up in those moments. Overcoming social anxiety takes time, compassion, and the willingness to change!

    2. Get curious about your habitual thinking patterns and limiting beliefs.

    There are underlying beliefs and habitual thinking patterns underneath the fear of being around people. Ask yourself:

    • What about being around others makes you anxious? Is it a fear of judgment or rejection?
    • Are you imagining the worst that could happen?
    • What beliefs are creating this internal response?
    • What do you think it would it say about you if you could not form a good connection with others during interactions?
    • Do you trust others?
    • Do you trust yourself to be able to handle the situation and whatever comes up? If not, what limiting beliefs underly your mistrust?

    When you recognize that your fear stems from untrue beliefs, it reduces the perceived danger of the social interaction and increases your perceived ability to handle it.

    3. Reframe unhelpful self-talk.

    Unhelpful self-talk can be a relentless companion for individuals with social anxiety. NLP encourages us to challenge and reframe these negative thoughts and limiting beliefs into more empowering ones.

    For instance, instead of thinking, “Everyone will judge me,” reframe it as, “People are just people, looking for real connection just like me.”

    Instead of imagining the worst that could happen, see the interaction’s potential: an opportunity for fun, learning, and connection.

    Transcend your internal dialogue with outward curiosity: What am I interested in learning from this or that person?

    After a social interaction, instead of ruminating about the potential silliness of the things you said or did not say, and how people might have judged you, release the need to be validated by others. And celebrate that you put yourself out there and the moments when you were present and had fun. Replace your inner critic with your inner cheerleader, your inner best friend.

    The next suggestions are approaches to learn to master your state of being and therefore increase your perceived ability to handle the social interactions.

    4. Use mindful awareness and breathing techniques.

    During the social event or interaction, if you feel triggered or overwhelmed, stay tuned in to your body, your breath. If you need a short break, take the time to recharge alone for a few minutes (in an outdoor area, on a patio, maybe in the restroom…). Take a few deep breaths. Remember your reframes, set an intention for joy and connection, remember people are just people, and go back in there!

    5. Access and develop your self-confidence.

    NLP utilizes the concept of anchoring to associate a specific physical or mental state with confidence and calmness.

    Identify a moment when you felt truly confident and at ease. Relive that experience vividly in your mind and body, focusing on the positive emotions and sensations associated with it. Amplify that state by adding colors, sound, and smells to the movie you are creating in your mind. Then, create an anchor, such as touching your thumb and index finger together, to trigger those feelings whenever you need them before or during the social event.

    6. Try mental rehearsal visualization.

    This is a powerful tool in NLP that allows us to mentally rehearse social situations and build confidence. Imagine yourself engaging in a social event with ease, grace, and enjoyment. Visualize positive interactions, with you feeling relaxed and radiating confidence. By repeatedly practicing this visualization exercise, you can train your mind to associate social situations with positive outcomes.

    7. Adopt a powerful body language.

    Our body language communicates more than words ever can. In social situations, pay attention to your posture, breathing, and facial expressions. Stand tall, maintain relaxed breathing, and make eye contact. By adopting a powerful physiology, you not only project confidence to others but also influence your own state of mind.

    8. Gradually increase your exposure to social situations.

    While it may be tempting to avoid social situations altogether, facing your fears is crucial for overcoming social anxiety and living a full life. You want to allow yourself to enjoy the social interactions that you actually deeply want to be part of.

    Gradually expose yourself to increasingly challenging social scenarios. Start with small steps, such as striking up conversations with strangers or attending social gatherings with trusted friends. As you accumulate positive experiences, your confidence will naturally grow.

    9. Be mindful of your language patterns.

    NLP emphasizes the importance of using language patterns that establish rapport and foster positive connections. Practice active listening, ask open-ended questions, and show genuine interest in others. By focusing on the needs and perspectives of those around you, you shift your attention away from your own anxiety and create a supportive social environment.

    10. Nourish your nervous system.

    Remember that anxiety in the body is created by your thought patterns and beliefs, which are creating a chronic fight-and-flight mode within your nervous system. It is paramount that you regulate your nervous system with activities that nourish it on a daily basis: yoga, nature, walks, sleep, nourishing food… Make this a priority if it’s not already. This will make a huge difference in your life and how you manage your perceived stress and, therefore, your anxiety.

    —

    Even the most deeply introverted personalities need social interaction. We are humans. We need others; we need connection to live wholesomely. It is a basis for our well-being and happiness, so it’s important to learn to transcend your social anxiety and balance your need for solitude with social connection.

    This might be hard to do on your own, and that’s okay. You can always find a therapist or coach to support you in your journey to freedom from your limiting beliefs and mind patterns.

    Take a deep breath, implement these strategies, be kind to yourself, and get out there!

  • Hungry and Panicked? The Link Between Food and Anxiety

    Hungry and Panicked? The Link Between Food and Anxiety

    “Take care of your mind, your body will thank you. Take care of your body, your mind will thank you.” ~Debbie Hampton

    4:00 p.m. I am suddenly aware of my heartbeat. It feels more insistent than normal. Is it faster? Is it jagged? Am I out of breath?

    I try to reason with myself: I’ve just done a brisk walk pushing the stroller over some hills.

    My anxiety responds: Those hills were awhile back… you wouldn’t be out of breath from that.

    Anxiety sufferers have a heightened sense of, well, a lot of things. For me, I am acutely aware of shifts in sensation in my body.

    Having practiced and taught yoga for most of my life contributes to this, and in many ways, it’s a great skill. I instinctively check in with my shoulders—are they up around my ears? Then my jaw—are my top teeth away from my bottom teeth? And perhaps the most important of all—am I holding my breath? I can’t help but observe when people walk with an imbalanced gait or sit with their spines slouched.

    But the heightened awareness is also pathological. A slight tingling in my hand instantly makes me think heart attack. Dizziness, which I ended up learning was caused by my vision changing, made me run to get screened for a brain tumor.

    4:30 p.m. I’m at the library with my two-year-old daughter. I still feel weird—“off.” I periodically place my hand on my chest—is my heart beating more intensely than normal? It seems normal. But what if it’s not normal?

    I press my hand into myself harder, searching for something to panic about. I find comfort in the two librarians a few feet away. I think, “If I have a heart attack, they’ll keep my daughter safe. They’ll call 911.” 

    I check in with my breath. It feels reassuring that I can take deep, unencumbered breaths.

    5:00 p.m. My eight-year-old son offers to look after his little sister. I feel like I need to lie down, to calm the strange rhythm of my heart. Something reminds me that I have leftovers from last night’s dinner.

    I made a really delicious Thai larb gai. It is a “safe” meal of ground turkey, vegetables, and rice. I hope my family didn’t notice that I avoided eating the rice last night.

    I reheat the leftovers, including a spoonful of rice. I am careful to avoid eating any rice—starch is bad, my disordered thinking will never let me forget. I take my first bite and burst into tears.

    —

    A few months ago, this pattern of crying started when I would finally eat after going too many hours without food. It would catch me by surprise because I hadn’t intentionally been avoiding food. I hadn’t intentionally been punishing myself. It would just happen.

    I’d miss breakfast because mornings are busy. A coffee would usually follow, masking my body’s ability to communicate its hunger—my hunger.

    I typically only have three hours to myself without any kids, three hours to do way more than is possible during that timeframe. I can’t possibly waste that time eating. And then once I reunite with my kids, my own needs all but get completely forgotten.

    On these types of days, when I would finally take a bite of something, almost always around 5:00 p.m., the tears would rush up and out.

    Why was I crying over a bite of chicken breast?

    —

    Eating my leftover larb gai, I wonder, when did I last eat? 9:00 a.m. with a friend. It is 5:00 p.m. now. An eight-hour window.

    “But I ate my daughter’s leftover applesauce!” I hear myself say. I instantly recognize this rationalization. The voice of the disorder.

    I realize I am once again inside the well-worn grooves of avoiding eating. I cry because my body is relieved it is getting sustenance. I cry because I am angry that I am still beholden.

    I try to work out what happened. It has been a busy day. But when is it not a busy day? This is not an excuse.

    At breakfast, I noticed that the person next to me was eating avocado toast, but she had scraped the avocado off the bread. Because bread is bad, my disordered thinking affirmed.

    I scanned the menu and noticed that the calories were listed next to each item. I don’t normally count calories. I try to focus on the description of each menu item and decide that Papa’s Breakfast Bowl sounds great: roasted potatoes, bourbon bacon jam, a sunny-side-up egg, and sliced avocado served with chipotle aioli. I would ask for no jam or aioli, obviously, but otherwise, this is a meal I would easily make myself.

    And then I saw the calories: 1100. 1100?! I panic.

    My friend arrived and asked what I was going to have. I casually said, “I’ll probably just have an omelet.”

    This friend is one of those women who pops out babies and bounces back. I don’t know how she does it—maybe it’s just genetic—but her body holds no visible remnants of having made babies. She was wearing skinny jeans and a fitted sweater; there are no rolls, her arms are firm and slender.

    I held my arms across my stubbornly squishy stomach. I calculated that her baby is younger than mine, but she is in much better shape. I didn’t know that I was doing it, but I chastised myself for being bigger than I used to be, than I should be. I deserved some sort of punishment for this failing, my evident gluttony and certain laziness. 

    I didn’t register when she told me, “You look amazing. What workouts are you doing these days?” My disordered, dysmorphic brain told me, “She’s just saying that to be nice because she feels sorry for how horrible you actually look.”

    —

    Another friend has unwittingly become my eating disorder sponsor. I send her a confessional text: “Dang it. I ate at 9 a.m. And then I didn’t eat for eight hours. I didn’t even realize how long it had been until I took my first bite and teared up.”

    We’ve talked about what the crying signifies. We both know it’s meaningful, pointing to some lesson.

    It is in talking to her that I put it all together. The 1100 calories. The scraped avocado toast. My slender friend.

    I also realize I had been triggered by another friend who had recently stayed with us. She does intermittent fasting, and she is an example that it works because she is an enviable (to me) size 0. My ED brain is so eager to jump on any restrictive, rule-based eating regimen. “See? She avoids eating and look at the result! Don’t you want to be a size 0 again?”

    But I also have an inner voice of wisdom. This is the voice that reminded me that nourishing myself so I could breastfeed was more important than losing the baby weight quickly. This is also the voice that instantaneously gets silenced when my eating disorder asserts itself.

    My visiting friend touted the benefits of intermittent fasting, “Our bodies aren’t meant to eat constantly. When we were cavemen, we didn’t have refrigerators and pantries.” She claimed, “My organs function better when they are free from having to digest food.” (Sounds ideal, but how does she know this is true?) She reasoned, “And when I do eat, I eat anything! Of course I always eat healthy foods, but I don’t avoid bread, as long as it’s good, artisanal bread, and I’ll have a pudding if I feel like it.”

    My eating disorder: You need to do this too.

    My inner wisdom: Any controlled eating is a slippery slope to starvation for you. Focus on three meals of day, that’s it. That’s your work. 

    —

    After I connect the dots of all these triggers and finish my leftovers, I promptly pass out on the couch, still sitting upright. I am relieved I (probably) am not having a heart attack and I need a minute to absorb it all.

    They say that you never recover from an eating disorder. You are in recovery. It is an active state that requires your conscious awareness and participation.

    In that sense, it seems no different to being an alcoholic. An alcoholic can’t just have one drink. They may struggle if they’re around people who are drinking. It may feel like an invisible force is pulling them to that ice cold beer or elegant glass of wine.

    I feel this invisible force, too. Except for me, it is pulling me toward starvation, deprivation, urging me to shrink into nothingness, to zero.

    But the cost is simply too high. I do not want to forgo my mental steadiness and inner ease for a smaller number on the scale or on my clothes. I’ve been there before, and it was not worth it.

    And for me, there is a clear correlation between starving myself and anxiety. I’ve learned that anxiety is actually the voice of wisdom, my inner child, piping up to grab my attention, reminding me to take care of myself.

    No, it’s not a heart attack, it’s not even a panic attack, it’s just—you’re hungry! You forgot about you. You’ve been criticizing yourself for being too big, for looking different to how you looked pre-motherhood or when you were eighteen. You’re not eighteen! And what a gift that is, to be given this opportunity to live, to age. To have children. 

    And they, my children, really are a huge motivation for me. I see how they take everything in, especially from us, their parents. I know how much I unconsciously absorbed from my mother. Babies are not born hating their thighs; you learn to hate your thighs.

    I know I cannot control everything in my children’s lives and psyches but my actions, my behavior, the way I talk about myself—these things I can control.

    I want my children to experience joy and gratefulness in the food we are all lucky enough to eat. I want them to get to know flavors, to have fun cooking, and to revel in shared meals with loved ones. I love when I make something that they love that they know their mommy made for them. Even if it’s just mac and cheese out of a box; I’ll take it when my son exclaims that nobody makes better mac and cheese than his mom does. (I do sometimes add toppings!)

    I do not want to be at the whim of my weight. I do not want to fear food. I most certainly do not want to pass any of this on to my children.

    So I will keep fighting for freedom. Freedom to eat—and enjoy!—three meals a day. Freedom to eat the damn bread (I ate the rice that was with my leftovers, by the way). Freedom, even, to make mistakes because these habits are deeply embedded, and the freedom to then celebrate the remembering, realizing, and resetting.

    I don’t know if this is the case for other people with anxiety, but I would invite you to take a look at any possible connections between your eating habits and symptoms of anxiety, particularly if you are prone to dieting.

    If you restrict your eating by skipping meals or by enforcing a tight eating window and you happen to find yourself experiencing symptoms of anxiety or depletion, zoom out and consider the bigger picture. Are you truly taking care of yourself?

    We are complex, layered beings and all the different facets of who we are intermingle and influence each other. It’s not just segregated compartments of well-being. Physical health and mental health are inextricably linked.

    Anxiety makes me feel untethered, shaky, uncertain, and afraid. Having that on empty exacerbates it all. I have no body or brain fuel to process it.

    Those tears that erupt with that first bite of food after denying myself—they ground me in relief, offer release, and ultimately, are a practice of compassion for myself. I wish good health and food freedom for us all. Because we are worth being fed, nourished, and sustained.

  • 3 Lifestyle Changes I Made to Overcome Dissociative Panic Attacks

    3 Lifestyle Changes I Made to Overcome Dissociative Panic Attacks

    “There is no greater wealth in this world than peace of mind.” ~Unknown

    A few years ago, I had what could safely be deemed a “bad year.” My live-in partner left me out of the blue, I became un(der)employed and racked with debt, I got in a car accident that totaled my car, and then…my dog died.

    After the year that I’d had, the death of that dog, my most treasured friend, was the final straw. It was the final straw for believing that things might turn around soon, and it was the final straw for my mental health.

    Shortly after her death, I started experiencing what I now know were dissociative panic attacks. At the time, however, I thought that I was going crazy, dying, and that my spirit was detached from my body. A feeling you can probably only understand if you, too, experience panic attacks and have felt derealization before.

    For a long time, I suffered. And wallowed. And gave up. But after about six months of living in this nightmarish state of near-constant dissociation and depersonalization, I had a moment of clarity. I knew that I had to give it my all to get better, no matter how long it took, because the alternative was bad.

    A panic attack is the ultimate manifestation of feeling a lack of control—feeling like you’re going to die, like you’re going crazy, like you’re disembodied… and there’s nothing you can do about it.

    So I started my healing process by looking for ways to take back dribs and drabs of control in my life.

    It didn’t happen overnight, but I am extremely grateful to say that it’s been over two years since I’ve had a panic attack. Something I never thought I’d be able to say when I was in the throes of the disorder. So how did I do it? I would love to share that with you here.

    These are the three tools that I believe had the biggest impact on healing my dissociative panic disorder.

    Adopting an Anti-Inflammation Diet

    Inflammation is the response our bodies have to foods that irritate our digestive system, and the amount of inflammation in your body has a direct impact on brain-functioning. According to Psychology Today, there is an undeniable correlation between inflammation in the gut and mental health disorders like anxiety, bi-polar disorder, and depression.

    I cut out gluten and alcohol completely (both notoriously inflammatory) and would have cut out dairy too except that I’d already done that a few years earlier for other reasons.

    Looking back, I think adopting this new diet was effective in more than one way… Cutting out alcohol was not only helpful in soothing inflammation, but it also allowed me to become much more clear-headed right out of the gate. I was never a huge drinker, but eliminating the ten to twelve weekly drinks I did have was enough to notice an instant improvement in the evenness of my emotional state throughout the day.

    Another surprise benefit was that making an intentional choice about the guidelines of my diet gave me back a sense of agency in my life because with every meal, I knew I was making an intentional choice about what would go in my body and why.

    Progressive-Overload Weight Training

    Unfortunately, weight training still seems to feel “off-limits” to many of us. There’s a rampant gym culture in our society, and it feels like either you’re in or you’re out. However, I learned during this journey to mental health that once you get “in,” it becomes clear that nothing and no one was ever really keeping you out!

    But why did I decide it was important to find my way “in” in the first place? To be honest, this one was a happy accident. I knew that it was important to start moving my body again, but it was January 2021, which meant it was too cold to exercise outside, and group fitness was still not an option thanks to the pandemic. Going to the gym, however, wearing a mask, was.

    What I discovered from my religious gym routine, and my dedication to learning how to weight train as a means to overcome feeling so awkward and uncomfortable during every workout, is that weight training has the powerful effect of connecting your mind to your body. Something I didn’t realize had been lacking for me.

    It’s impossible to lift heavy weights without becoming deeply aware of the connection between your mental cues, your breath, and your muscles.

    Dissociative panic disorder is a nasty feedback loop of feeling dissociated and disconnected, which is scary, and leads to our body trying to overcome that fear by dissociating and disconnecting. Developing a weightlifting routine created an interruption in that debilitating cycle and, over time, reminded me that I am firmly rooted in my body and that I have control over my physical reality.

    Meditation 

    When I first started experiencing dissociation, depersonalization, and derealization, meditation was absolutely not the right answer for me. In fact, attempting to meditate only made me feel worse—like I was on the brink of leaving my physical body behind entirely.

    However, once I regained a little bit of trust with my mind and body through other practices and knew that I would, in fact, not float away, I started using meditation to further the work I was doing in other places.

    Since I had discovered through weightlifting the importance of strengthening my connection to my body, the first meditations I employed were for deepening that body-awareness (also called somatic awareness or interoceptive awareness.) My entire goal was to become more familiar and friendly with my body so that I could remain grounded in my physical self throughout the day.

    Later, once I was feeling healthier and more optimistic about a panic attack-free future, I also began to employ meditations for future-visualization. I would tune into and sit with the feelings of connection, safety, and purpose as I allowed my mind to create pictures of my future life. In this way, I began to rewire my brain to understand, look for, and create positive emotions again.

    Now, more than two years after I made the life-changing decision to do anything it took to heal my panic disorder, I still fall back on all three of these tools to keep me healthy. I avoid inflammatory foods, I hit the gym regularly (and move my body in other ways), and I try to meditate every single morning.

    I know it can feel overwhelming to start a new routine, but none of these lifestyle changes will do anything but enhance your life. It’s worth it to try. I hope that a few months from now you, too, can look back at your panic attack days as just a difficult, but closed chapter in your life.

  • Stop Catastrophizing: How to Retrain Your Brain to Stress and Worry Less

    Stop Catastrophizing: How to Retrain Your Brain to Stress and Worry Less

    “Don’t believe everything you think.” ~Unknown

    A couple of years ago, I entered a depressive state as I sat through many long, eventless days while on partial disability due to a bilateral hand injury. I was working one to two hours a day max in my job, per doctor’s orders. The medical experts couldn’t say if or when I would feel better.

    As I sat in pain on my sofa, day after day, running out of new TV series to occupy my time, I couldn’t help but catastrophize my future.

    What’ll happen if I can’t use the computer again? My whole career is based on computer work. 

    Will I ever be able to cook, clean, and drive like normal without pain?

    Do I have to give up my pole dancing hobby—a form of self-expression that I love so dearly?

    Shortly before my injury, I was preparing to change careers, and I was particularly excited about it. But worker’s compensation required me to stay put in my current job because I relied upon them to cover my medical expenses. I felt stuck, and I didn’t know how to get out.

    If you’re familiar with the slippery slope of catastrophizing, then you’re no stranger to how quickly you can get swept up in a thought that takes you down a dark tunnel. When you fixate on a problem and the worst possible outcome, it can feel viscerally real in your mind and body.

    There’s no mystery as to why any of us catastrophize. Perhaps you do it more than other people, but the truth is that our brains and nervous systems are evolved to keep us safe through protective measures, such as assuming the worst in order to prepare for it or to avoid taking risks altogether.

    If your brain judges a certain situation as potentially dangerous to your physical or social survival, it will not hesitate to activate the stress response in your amygdala, pumping the stress hormone cortisol throughout your body.

    Everyone’s brain also has a negativity bias, so it likes to err on the side of caution—in other words, you often experience more anxiety over a problem than is necessary or even helpful.

    When I was on disability, my nervous system downregulated my body into a depressive state, where I assumed nothing good was possible and I didn’t have to feel disappointed if the worst came true—which it never did.

    When you’re immersed in an anxiety episode, you have less access to the conscious, wise part of your brain that can solve problems. The biochemicals produced in your body generate more similar thoughts and feelings, which makes it easy to spiral into an even worse state of anxiety or depression. Your stories about yourself and the world become increasingly negative. It’s like the stress response is hijacking your brain and nervous system.

    Understanding how your brain functions when you’re engulfed in a catastrophizing episode is important for a couple of reasons.

    First of all, your body is doing what it knows to do best—mobilizing you to stay safe. The stress hormone helped us escape wild animals in our evolutionary past, but we’re not facing life-or-death situations anymore. The problem is that our brains haven’t updated to modern times.

    Once you know that your body is just trying to spin a doomsday story to protect you, then you can drop any beliefs you have about yourself—like “There must be something wrong with me for picturing such horrible possibilities!” Because there is nothing wrong with you.

    Secondly, the key to returning to reality and stopping the habit lies in your ability to reverse the stress response and regain control of your thinking brain, where you have clarity. Regulating your emotions and nervous system will biochemically allow you to change your stories and beliefs about yourself and the future. When you’re regulated, the narrative shifts into hope, possibility, and inspiration.

    How to Change Your Stories

    There is no shortage of somatic and mindfulness practices that regulate the nervous system, allowing you to reduce stress hormones and climb out of the non-existent future catastrophe.

    The first step is deciding you want to change.

    You have control over how you want to feel and what you want to do differently. If you’re ready to let go of catastrophizing your future, then the next step is to start noticing when you’re going down that old habit road. Catch yourself in the moment and try the following techniques to shift out of the problematic state so you can put an end to those unhelpful thoughts.

    Shift into Peripheral Vision

    If your inner dialogue is running rampant and you know it’s not serving you, peripheral vision is a great way to silence those thoughts immediately. Find a focal point in your room or the space around you. Without moving your eyes, soften your gaze like you’re diffusing your focus. Expand your awareness to all the space around that focal point. Continue to slowly expand out, as if you can almost see behind yourself. Try this for about twenty seconds. Shift back into focus and repeat at least once more.

    Palpating + Self-Touch

    Bring your palms together and start rubbing them one against another, creating some warmth and friction. Bring your full attention to your hands, noticing what you’re feeling in between your fingers and palms. Play with speed and pressure. Notice the temperature of your own hands. Maybe you even want to stretch the fingers back and forth.

    Do this for about thirty seconds, and then bring both hands to opposite shoulders, like you’re giving yourself a hug. Let both hands trace down your arms to the elbows in a sweeping motion. Then bring them back to the shoulders and back down again. Repeat for as long as it feels good.

    Build a Case for Possibilities

    As you build a practice of resourcing your body, get curious about what you’re moving through and moving toward. As you find moments of hope and possibility, write down what you’re excited about, looking forward to, and ready to change. Provide the written evidence to yourself that you know how to feel differently about your future. Remember this feeling, because you have control over finding your way back to it.

    Remember That Things Can Always Turn Around

    Recognize that your brain thinks anxiety will help you prepare for the worst, but that too much anxiety limits you. And remember that it’s possible things will turn out far better than you imagine.

    Challenge your own thoughts, and teach your mind how to imagine best-case scenarios instead of tragedies. What’s everything that could go right? This isn’t about hinging your happiness upon a narrowly defined marker of success, because no one knows how the future will unfold. Rather, consider that the future might pleasantly surprise you, so you can have a frame of mind that’ll make it easier to keep moving forward, pivot when needed, and develop resilience for the uncertainty of life.

    Your Brain is Paying Attention

    The incredible truth about interventional self-regulatory practices is that your brain is paying attention. In other words, it’s noticing that you’re cutting short an old habit and taking a turn down a new path. With repetition, this rewires the brain.

    Your brain is always learning, always picking up how you’re feeling and responding to the same old triggers and stressors. Thanks to neuroplasticity, your brain and nervous system are changing. Be tenacious about stopping the self-limiting patterns, and your body will have no other choice than to update.

  • 6 Things to Remember When You Feel Anxious in Your Relationships

    6 Things to Remember When You Feel Anxious in Your Relationships

    “Our anxiety does not come from thinking about the future, but from wanting to control it.” ~Kahlil Gibran

    Relationships have always been anxiety-inducing for me, and I know it stems from my childhood.

    As a kid I would often silently mouth words I’d just said, hearing them in my mind and evaluating whether I’d said something stupid or wrong. I was always afraid of saying something that might make someone upset.

    Junior high was a particularly rough time in my life. I was insecure and had low self-esteem, and I was desperate for approval from other kids, which made me an easy target for bullying.

    To make matters worse, an authority figure in my life told me, “If I was your age, I wouldn’t be your friend.”

    I had always believed there was something wrong with me, but at that point I was certain that no one would like me, let alone love me, if they really knew me. But I also felt deeply lonely in my little bubble of self-loathing and envied the popular kids. The likable kids. The kids who didn’t seem so clingy and awkward, who seemed to easily fit in.

    Thus began an internal battle I’m guessing many of you know all too well: the deep desire to feel seen and secure juxtaposed with the feared being judged and rejected.

    As I got older, I found myself in all kinds of unhealthy relationships, making friends with other emotionally damaged, self-destructive women, thinking they’d be less likely to judge me, and dating emotionally unavailable men, whose behavior reinforced that I didn’t deserve love.

    I was always afraid they were mad at me. That I did something wrong. That they might realize I was too needy and eventually walk away.

    And it wasn’t just in my closest relationships that I felt insecure. I also felt a deep sense of unease around their friends—when we all went to a party or bar, for example. It all felt like a performance or a test, and I was afraid of failing.

    Constantly in fight-or-flight mode, I tried to numb my anxiety in social situations with alcohol. Far more times than I care to admit, I ended a night black-out drunk, only to wake up the next morning to mortifying stories of things I’d done that I didn’t recall.

    The irony is that this jeopardized my relationships—because people had to babysit and take care of me—when I was binge-drinking mainly because I was scared of being rejected.

    Maybe you can relate to the extreme anxiety I felt in relationships. Or maybe for you, it’s less debilitating, but you worry, nonetheless.

    Whatever your personal experience, perhaps it will help to read these six things—things I wish I understood sooner.

    1. Your anxiety is likely about more than just this one relationship.

    Even if the other person has said or done things that have left you feeling insecure, odds are, your anxiety stems from your past, as was true for me.

    We all form attachment styles as children; many of us become anxiously attached as a result of growing up with abusive, neglectful, or unreliable caregivers who aren’t responsive to our needs. If you often feel anxious in relationships, you might be stuck in a pattern you formed as a kid.

    2. If the other person is emotionally unavailable, it’s not your fault, and not within your power to change them.

    It’s tempting to think that your behavior is responsible for theirs, and if you do everything right, they’ll give you the love you crave. On the flipside, you might constantly blame yourself when they withdraw. You said something wrong. Or did something wrong. Or it’s just you being you—because you are wrong.

    But emotionally unavailable people have their own painful pasts that make them act the way they do. It started way before you, and it will likely continue when your relationship inevitably breaks under the strain of too much tension.

    Instead of trying to earn their love and prove you’re worthy, remind yourself that you deserve love you don’t have to work for. And that it’s worth the wait to find someone who is willing and able to give you their all.

    3. Things might not be as they seem.

    While some people truly are pulling away and looking for an easy exit, other times we just think they are.

    When we fear abandonment, we often read into little things and assume the worst. We over-analyze text messages, worry about a change in tone or facial expressions, and generally look for signs that we might have upset someone. But there’s a good chance that thing you’re worrying about has nothing to do with you.

    Maybe they’re not texting back right away because they’re afraid of writing the ‘wrong’ thing to you. Maybe they haven’t called recently because they’re going through something hard. Whatever you’re interpreting as proof of imminent rejection, consider that you might have it all wrong.

    4. Sometimes anxious behavior creates a self-fulfilling prophecy.

    When you’re feeling anxious, you might cling, act controlling, or argue over minor issues that make you feel neglected or rejected—all behaviors that can cause someone to withdraw. I can’t even count the number of times I caused unnecessary drama because I assumed that because I felt insecure, someone else had done something to make me feel that way.

    Everything changed when I recognized I could pause, recognize how I was feeling (and why), and then choose to respond from a place of calm awareness.

    If you can learn to recognize when you’re feeling triggered, you can practice regulating your own nervous system—through deep breathing, for example—instead of inadvertently pushing the other person away.

    5. Often, the best thing you can do is sit with your anxiety.

    This one has been hard for me. When I feel anxious, my instinct is often to seek reassurance from someone else to make it go away. But that means my peace is dependent on what someone else says or does.

    Ultimately, we need to believe that our relationships are strong enough to handle a little conflict if there truly is a problem–and that if our relationship isn’t strong enough to last, we’re strong enough to handle that.

    6. Sometimes when someone is pulling away, it’s actually in your best interest.

    People with an anxious attachment style will often try to do everything in their power to hold onto a relationship, even if someone isn’t good for them.

    In my twenties I spent many nights crying over emotionally abusive men, some of them friends with benefits who I hoped would eventually want more; others, men I was dating who thought even less of me than I thought of myself.

    The wrong men always left me because I didn’t see my worth and wasn’t strong enough to leave them first. And the pain was always unbearable because it reinforced that I wasn’t lovable—just as I’d feared all along.

    Though it can be agonizing when someone triggers an old abandonment wound, letting the wrong person walk away is the first step to believing you deserve more.

    —

    As someone with deep core wounds, I still struggle with relationship anxiety at times. I don’t know if it will ever go away completely. But I know I’ve come a long way and that I’m a lot stronger now.

    I also know that when I inevitably feel that familiar fear—the racing heart, the sense of dread, the triggered shame coursing through my trembling veins—I will love myself through it. I won’t judge myself or put myself down or tell myself I deserve to be hurt. I may fear that someone might abandon me, but no matter what happens, I won’t abandon myself.

  • The Hidden Reasons You’re Stuck (And What to Do When Conventional Advice Fails)

    The Hidden Reasons You’re Stuck (And What to Do When Conventional Advice Fails)

    “The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” ~M. Scott Peck

    Have you ever been in a situation or a stage in your life where you’ve felt physically stuck, as if you’ve fallen into some kind of invisible quicksand that you can’t get out of?

    Or maybe it’s felt more like you have a thick, invisible elastic band around your waist, and no matter how hard you push forward, it pulls against you, holding you in place? Or maybe it’s like a sky-high brick wall that you can’t find your way through, around, or over?

    Getting stuck in life can feel frustrating, annoying, upsetting, and confusing. And if you’ve been stuck for too long or at a time when you really need to move forward, you’ve probably found yourself panicking and feeling afraid because if you don’t take action, it may seem like your life will collapse—that you may end up financially destitute, homeless, alone, or a failure.

    The Place Where You Are Stuck is Your Growing Edge

    Everyone gets stuck at times. It tends to occur when you arrive on the threshold of a new direction, taking a risk, doing something new, or needing to leave something behind and launch yourself into the unknown.

    I’ve been stuck many times in my life, sometimes briefly and sometimes for longer periods when I’ve had to accept that I needed to make big changes to my life and along with them, make choices and difficult decisions or learn something deeply and powerfully.

    This place where you are stuck is your growing edge. It is the threshold between the known and the unknown, who you are and who you’re becoming.

    Sometimes you might have no idea why you’re stuck, only that you can’t move forward. It’s a place that you may consciously or unconsciously try to escape by either avoiding your stuckness or trying to get over your edge and out of the discomfort too quickly.

    Sometimes we get stuck unnecessarily for way too long because we keep hitting the edge and avoiding it or keep applying strategies to get unstuck that don’t address the real cause.

    We often think of getting stuck as a problem to solve, but in my experience, it usually holds a bounty of insight, gifts, power to reclaim, and healing. It can even serve the unfolding of your life by keeping you aligned with your destiny and soul’s callings (or greater purpose, if you don’t believe in those things).

    Why Conventional Advice Didn’t Help You Get Unstuck

    Much has been written about how to get unstuck, but I’ve found that a lot of the advice is based on unnamed assumptions about the reasons you are stuck.

    A common assumption is that it is a mindset issue, so a lot of the advice relates to changing your thoughts and conscious beliefs, cultivating different attitudes and positive mindsets, or using willpower to keep going and find the next step.

    If you have followed any of this type of advice but failed to get unstuck, you may feel like something is wrong with you. But I want to lovingly tell you that there isn’t anything wrong with you. The problem is in the solution that simply didn’t address the root of your stuckness.

    My Experience of Being Stuck

    My most recent bout of stuckness was pretty painful and at times frightening in the context of my life. After pushing hard over several days to write a heap of content for my business, I woke up the next morning feeling depleted, empty, and sad. And I couldn’t write again for weeks.

    If I was writing for fun, then maybe I could have just completely surrendered and waited for the words to return, but as a self-employed business owner, writing forms a large part of my work. I write all of my own website, blog, and marketing content. Not being able to write was scary because it put my business at risk.

    Initially, I tried all the usual things: surrender, acceptance, movement, doing something fun, positive self-talk and encouragement, believing in myself, and looking for the next small step I could take. While these things were helpful, especially in terms of alleviating stress, they didn’t help me get unstuck because when I came back to writing, I was still blocked.

    The Real Reasons I Was Stuck and How I Discovered Them

    When the usual things didn’t help me get unstuck, I sat down with my journal to start inquiring in a loving, gentle way about was happening in my experience and inside me.

    To begin, I did some slow, deep belly breathing with one hand on my heart and the other on my belly. This is a polyvagal breathing exercise that helps to bring your nervous system into a state of relaxation and increases your sense of safety.

    Then I sat with my experience of stuckness and the uncomfortable feelings that arose and noticed what was happening inside me. A conversation with my body and soul unfolded that continued on and off over many days.

    This is what I discovered about why I was stuck.

    1. I had become too immersed in masculine energy in my approach to my writing: linear, direct, and factual.

    I had made it a problem to be solved, a task to be completed. While I cared about writing well and my audience, I had disconnected from the deeper voice within me that held the poetry, beauty, and wisdom of what I truly wanted to say. I call this my soul voice. Essentially, I was trying to write from my head and not my heart.

    2. I was trying to write what I thought others wanted to know or read, in a way I thought I should do it, which wasn’t congruent with what my soul wanted to express through me.

    I believed that I had to write in a certain way to connect with people and be liked rather than just write as myself. I was trying to people-please, which is an old trauma response.

    3. Different parts of me were in conflict, and their conflict needed to be listened to and resolved.

    My sensitive parts didn’t like my overly practical approach to writing and were actively pushing against the “let’s get on with it” part that was trying to get it done. You could think of it like my heart pushing back against my head in opposition, saying “this isn’t the way to proceed.”

    4. Less obvious was an inner critic that redirected me to write from my head.

    Its voice was quiet, blended in my thoughts. It was trying to stop me from writing as my true self to protect me from the risk of criticism that a young innocent part of me would find devastating—an old trauma.

    Once I recognized and sat with all of my insights about why I was stuck, I was able to hear my deeper self and find my way back into writing by listening to what my heart and soul wanted to express, while reassuring my anxious parts.

    I shared little chunks of writing on social media that I felt inspired to share, not because I thought I should or wanted to please anyone but myself. This trickle eventually found its way to become a greater river. My writer’s block ceased. My stuckness was gone.

    The Hidden Reasons You’re Stuck

    The reason you’re stuck is not necessarily a result of your mindset, attitude, or willpower, or solely because of your beliefs. The reasons you are stuck are deeper than that.

    They’re often hidden, obscure, or unobvious because they’re hanging out in your unconscious where you haven’t looked or been able to see them. They can be entangled and intertwined.

    We get stuck because of deep inner conflicts between parts of ourselves that we aren’t aware of or listening to, limiting beliefs created and held by young parts of ourselves, and trauma that has been protectively pushed down but may surface.

    We get stuck when we try to ignore or avoid difficult feelings, or when we’re scared of going for the thing that we want or need to do that our nervous system perceives as dangerous, sending us into a fight, flight, freeze or even fawn response to try and make unworkable situations work.

    Your conscious mind might think you want what you say you want, but unconscious parts of you say no.

    You might have inner critical figures meanly berating you or quietly discouraging you in a way that seems helpful or loving but isn’t. You might not have enough inner or outer allies to help you take the step you want to take or cultivate the skills you need to cultivate.

    You can also get stuck when the thing you’re trying to do isn’t aligned with your destiny or soul’s calling and your stuckness is a symptom of higher intervention.

    How to Find the Hidden Reasons You’re Stuck

    1. Offer yourself love and compassion, coupled with gentle curiosity about your stuckness.

    This will help your body relax and feel safe. You won’t discover what you are looking for by being forceful or unfeeling toward yourself.

    2. Befriend it.

    Before you can get out of your stuckness you must be willing to be with it and relate to it. Even if you try to detour your way around it or avoid it, the lessons that lie within it will appear again at another time in your life because you’re here to learn and grow.

    Life lessons we need to learn repeat. What you learn will serve you for the rest of your life.

    3. If you feel stressed and anxious about your situation, try some polyvagal breathing exercises to bring your nervous system into a state of rest and digest so you’ll feel safer.

    It’s hard to think and see clearly if your body is very activated or stressed or even in a freeze or shutdown.

    4. Find time to consciously hang out with your stuckness, breathe with it, and if you are able to, tune into your body.

    Ask, listen, and see what bubbles up and what you notice is going on beneath the surface. For me, meditation and journaling worked, but they’re not for everyone. Maybe intentional walking, dancing, praying, or talking into your phone is better for you.

    Here, you must be kind, gentle, and welcoming. Digging for answers and clues, especially in a forceful or problem-solving way, can make your sensitive inner world and young parts freeze up and not reveal anything because they feel unsafe.

    5. Hang out and breathe with your insights so you feel safe.

    This can often be enough for your stuckness to unfreeze or for you to form insights about your next step.

    Other times you will need to do some work to process emotions, work through inner conflicts and limiting beliefs, and heal your young parts and traumas. You may need therapeutic support for this.

    6. If you’ve tried the above and you’re still stuck, seek the help of a therapeutic practitioner or safe, compassionately honest loved one.

    We all have blind spots where we can’t see things clearly about ourselves. It’s human nature.

    You may have painful experiences kept out of your conscious awareness that need healing.

    Sometimes you just need help and a safe space to discover what you can’t see and to be held safely with your experience and what arises.

  • Learning to Have Faith That All Is Well

    Learning to Have Faith That All Is Well

    “If you believe it will work out, you’ll see opportunities. If you believe it won’t, you will see obstacles.” ~Wayne Dyer

    Gwen and I first met at a lactation group for new moms. She seemed like someone I’d get along with, and we talked here and there, eventually becoming Facebook friends, but nothing more.

    Fate (or just good luck) intervened, though, when we met up again months later at the first birthday party of a mutual acquaintance’s daughter.

    Gwen was the only person I knew at the party (other than the hostess, of course), and I was the only person she knew, so we started chatting. I was quickly reminded of how much I liked her, and after she told me she was desperate to hang out with someone other than her retired next door neighbor, we made a plan to meet up.

    We clicked immediately. We talked parenting, politics, relationships, and more, and on a really deep, intimate level. I felt like I’d known her forever, and by the end of our first playdate she said something along the lines of, “I really like you and I’m so glad we had the chance to meet again!”

    I felt so happy and full, and our relationship continued along this way for more than a year. Our kids were close in age, so we’d play at each other’s houses, meet at a playground, or do some sort of activity. One time we went away to a lake for a few nights and I had more fun (and talked more) than I’d had since I was a teenager.

    Then things changed a little bit. We both got busier, and the fact that we lived about forty minutes away from one another made it challenging to hang out. Our visits dwindled to about once a month instead of once a week, though we were always happy to see each other.

    Or so I thought.

    A few months after this shift, we went more than a month without seeing each other. I had contacted her at one point, but she had said she wasn’t available on any of the days I was free.

    Two more weeks passed and I heard nothing. Finally, with her birthday on the horizon, I texted her to say that it was weird not talking to her, and that I missed her. No response.

    I texted a childhood friend, someone whom I’ve known for decades, and asked her what she thought I should do. She said Gwen was probably just busy, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

    A couple of days later I sent another follow up text to Gwen, one that simply said “Hello?” and heard nothing once again.

    I started to get really down whenever I thought about the situation. Even though we’d both been much busier lately, each taking on part-time jobs and working on side businesses of our own, I felt gloomy and worried. I thought we’d be friends for the long haul.

    One night, while I was lying in bed, I talked to myself about just letting it go. Being mad wasn’t going to do anything, being hurt wasn’t going to help, and I’d done my best to reach out.

    And then you know what? I woke up one day and there was a text from her.

    It said, “Did you get my texts?? I think something is wrong with my phone, because I haven’t heard from you at all, but I just saw that all of your recent texts had gone to my iPad!” I immediately texted her back, and we realized the issue had to do with her getting a new phone, a technological glitch.

    We happily texted each other back and forth, with me even telling her how I was wondering what the heck was going on, and quickly made plans for the next week.

    When I went online later that same day, I saw she’d posted a message on my timeline that said something similar to her text: “I don’t think our texts are getting to each other. Message me!”

    Here’s what struck me when I read that: Gwen had faith. In herself, in our friendship, perhaps in life in general.

    I did not.

    Why did I automatically assume she didn’t want to be friends with me anymore after she didn’t respond to just a couple of texts? Why didn’t I send her a message on Facebook? Why didn’t I try calling her? Why did I just give up?

    I realized this was a pattern with me; I was often looking for the bad in things rather than the good. Looking for reasons why things wouldn’t work out rather than why they would. This was something I needed to change.

    The incident with Gwen happened nearly two years ago now, and thinking back on it, I see how much I’ve changed and how much better my attitude is.

    First of all, I’ve realized how much my thoughts and outlook impact every single area of my life. In this scenario, I could have told myself something kind instead of assuming the worst. I could have thought, “It’s been a long time, I bet Gwen misses seeing me, too!” instead of thinking she didn’t want to be friends anymore.

    I had and have no control over someone else’s thoughts or actions, so even if it was true that Gwen didn’t want to have a friendship anymore, I could have looked for things to appreciate instead of automatically jumping to the bad.

    Thinking about how thankful I was to have had the friendship when I really needed it while at home with a young child, or being appreciative of meeting someone I could talk to so easily, regardless of how long the relationship lasted, would have both been more beneficial stories to tell myself than the negative ones.

    Second, I’ve developed more faith in myself and in life. I’ve often struggled to believe that things can work out, regardless of the area of my life I’m thinking about (career, relationships, finances), and focusing on what’s working rather than dwelling on the negative has made a big difference.

    Sure, things can go wrong, but my deep sense of believing it’s going to be okay regardless of what’s happening in the moment has caused a big shift in my world. If the same thing happened today, I have confidence that I would tell myself, “All is well, and no matter how this works out, I can handle it.”

    Third, I’ve worked on changing the “I’m not good enough” story that makes me question my worth as a human being. Talk about a recurring theme in my life! Whether I was stressed about my performance at work or worrying over a guy I liked, I often had the “not good enough” story on repeat in the background. This affected the Gwen situation in a big way, because I was letting myself believe I was somehow unworthy of our friendship and believing something was wrong with me.

    This is still a work in progress, but I’ve come a long way. Catching myself when I have these thoughts is important, as well as reminding myself that it’s just something I’m making up, and humans all have similar thoughts. Getting stuck in them makes things worse; doing something positive for myself, like going for a walk or taking a nap, can make them better.

    Lastly, I’ve tried to just stop worrying. About everything. Yes, that’s a tall order, and no, I’m not completely there yet, but being aware of my worry allows me to channel it into something else.

    For instance, if I found myself worrying over my friendship status with someone now, I’d stop, take a step back, and ask myself if there’s anything I could take action on in that moment. If I decided yes, I’d take that action, whether it was picking up the phone or sending an email, but if I decided no, I’d be diligent about changing my focus to something else. Worry doesn’t solve anything, it only digs you into a deeper hole.

    It can feel difficult to shift deeply ingrained thoughts and patterns, but when you realize they’re making your life harder and sadder than it needs to be, you’ll see they’re worth the work to change them.

  • Anxiety Sucks, But It Taught Me These 7 Important Things

    Anxiety Sucks, But It Taught Me These 7 Important Things

    “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” ~Soren Kierkegaard

    Let’s be clear:

    This isn’t an article about positive thinking.

    This isn’t an article about how silver linings make everything okay.

    This isn’t an article about how your perspective on anxiety is all wrong.

    The kids call those things “toxic positivity.”

    No toxic positivity here.

    This is an article about my lifelong relationship with anxiety and what I’ve learned from something that won’t go away. At times the anxiety spikes and feels almost crippling. I have a hard time appreciating the learning at those times, but it’s still there.

    That is what this article is all about.

    Please do not confuse me learning things from something that won’t go away with me endorsing that thing or saying it’s a good thing. I would trade everything I’ve learned from anxiety for less anxiety. I don’t even like writing about it because focusing on it this much gives me anxiety. But I want to write things that help people.

    How a Bare Butt Sparked My Anxiety

    Stranger Things has shown how cool the eighties were. For the most part, this is true. I miss arcades and the music. I miss the freedom I had as a kid that I don’t see kids having these days. I miss some of the fashion. I don’t miss people not knowing anything about mental health.

    We used to play football every day after school at a baseball field/park in our little town. This was unsupervised tackle football with kids a lot older than me.

    I remember one time a guy broke his finger. It was pointing back at him at a ninety-degree angle. He took off sprinting toward his house. One of the older kids said, “He’s running home to mommy!” and we all went back to playing.

    Oddly enough, possibly breaking my finger didn’t worry me. What did worry me was one day when a kid was running for a touchdown, and another kid dove to stop him. He only caught the top of his pants, pulling them down and exposing his bare butt. He made the touchdown anyway, but while everyone else thought it was hilarious, it scared me to death.

    What if that happens to me?

    I started tying my pants up with a string every day, pulling it tight enough to make my stomach hurt (remember, this was the eighties—I was wearing those neon-colored pajama-pant-looking things). I started to feel sick before we played football, before school, and before everything.

    You would think it was obvious that I was dealing with anxiety, but you have to remember that in the eighties and nineties, we did not talk about mental health like we do now. We didn’t throw around terms like anxiety and depression. I was just the weird kid that threw up before he went to school.

    The anxiety has gotten a little more noticeable over the past few years. It seems to have gotten worse since having COVID in 2020 and 2021. I don’t know if that’s a thing, but it feels like it is. It has forced me to deal with it mindfully and with more intention. It’s never pleasant, but I’ve learned a few things.

    1. Anxiety has taught me to be present.

    The crushing presence of high anxiety forces me to be exactly where I am at that moment. I’m not able to read or write. I cannot play a video game or watch a movie with any kind of enjoyment. There’s nothing I can do.

    This roots me in the moment in a very intense, authentic way. That might seem bad since I’m anxious, but there’s another layer to it. When I can be completely present with the physiological sensations of anxiety, I recognize that they are energy in the body. When I’m super present, I can see how my mind is turning those sensations into the emotion we call anxiety, and that’s where my suffering comes from.

    2. Anxiety has taught me about control.

    I’ve been told that my hyper-independence and need to be prepared for anything is a trauma response. I was a therapist for ten years, and I still don’t know what to do with this information. I do know that anxiety gives me a crash course in what I can control and what I cannot control.

    The bad news is that I can’t control any of the things that I think are creating anxiety. The good news is that I can control my response to all those things. Anxiety forces me to do this in a very intentional way.

    Anxiety also puts my mind firmly on something bigger than myself. Maybe it’s that higher power we hear about in AA meetings and on award shows. It’s good for me to get outside my head and remember that I’m not in charge of anything. It’s helpful to only box within my weight class.

    3. Anxiety teaches me to have good habits and boundaries.

    I’m bad about allowing my habits and boundaries to slip when times are good. I start eating poorly, I stop exercising, I stay up too late, and I watch a bunch of shows and movies that beam darkness and distraction directly into my head.

    I also start to allow unhealthy and even toxic people to have a more prominent role in my life. This is all under the guise of helping them because people reach out to me a lot. Over the years, I’ve learned I have to limit how close I let the most toxic people get to me, no matter how much help they need.

    When I’m feeling good, I start thinking I can handle anything, and my boundaries slip. Anxiety is always a reminder that the unhealthiness in my life has consequences, and I clean house when it spikes.

    4. Anxiety reminds me how important growth is.

    Once I clean house, I start looking at new projects and things I can do to feel better. I start taking the next step in who I want to be. This has been difficult over the past three years because the waves of anxiety have been so intense, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel as the good habits I put in place and the new projects and things I started are beginning to come to fruition.

    I chose to let my counseling license go inactive and focus on life coaching because it’s less stressful, and I’m better at it. This would not have happened without anxiety. I have changed my diet and exercise in response to blood pressure and anxiety, and these are good habits to have whether I am anxious or not.

    5. Anxiety taught me to be gentle.

    I’ve written and spoken a lot about my desire to be gentler with people. I’m not unkind, and I have a lot of compassion for people, but this is often expressed gruffly or too directly. It’s how I was raised, and I often feel like I am patronizing people if I walk in verbal circles when I’m trying to help them with something.

    When I’m experiencing high anxiety I feel fragile, which helps me understand how other people might feel in the face of my bluntness. I started working on being gentler around 2018, and I was disappointed in my progress.

    It was also around that year that anxiety began to become a fixture in my life again. As I look back now, I can recognize that I am a lot gentler with everyone around me when I’m anxious. Being a little fragile helps me treat everybody else with a little more care.

    6. Anxiety taught me to slow down and ask for help.

    When I started experiencing increased anxiety, it led me to make quick decisions and change things to try to deal with it. This makes sense. Evolutionarily, anxiety is meant to prompt us to action.

    The problem was that these decisions rarely turned out to be my best ones and often led to other consequences I had to deal with down the line. Because of this, I’ve learned that an anxiety spike is not the time to make big decisions.

    If I have to make a decision about something, I slow down and try to be very intentional about it. I’ve also learned I need to talk it out with somebody else, something I’ve never been inclined to do. Asking for help is a good thing.

    7. Anxiety helps me speed up.

    Yeah, yeah, yeah, this is the opposite of what I just said.

    Let me clarify.

    One of the most important quotes I’ve ever read came from the folk singer Joan Baez: “Action is the antidote to anxiety.” (Years later, I learned she might have said despair instead of anxiety, but I heard it the first way).

    Some tasks bring anxiety that I do not want to deal with. These usually involve phone calls or emails to bureaucratic organizations or errands that I find unpleasant and anxiety-inducing (avoiding these also makes sense—our evolutionary legacy cannot understand why we would do something that may feel dangerous).

    Over the years, I’ve learned that anxiety diminishes if I take the steps I need to take to address these tasks. The cool thing is that this has translated over to many of my day-to-day tasks.

    By acting in the face of anxiety, I’ve gotten pretty good about doing things when they need to be done. I mow the lawn when it needs to be mowed, take out the trash when it needs to be taken out, put the laundry up when it needs to be put up, and get the oil changed in my truck when it needs to be changed.

    Once we start addressing tasks immediately, it becomes a habit. Anxiety helped me do this.

    Anxiety Still Sucks

    So there you go. Seven things anxiety has taught me. I’m grateful for these lessons, but they don’t make anxiety any less difficult in the moment.

    Anxiety is meant to suck. It’s meant to make things difficult and uncomfortable for us until we do something to address the problem. The problem, unfortunately, is often un-addressable these days.

    We worry about things like losing our job, not having enough money, divorce, and the general state of the world. Anxiety did not develop to address any of these things, so sometimes being comfortable with discomfort is the best we can offer ourselves.

    Maybe that’s the last thing anxiety is teaching me.