Over the past couple of days, I’ve noticed that I’ve been feeling more anxious than usual. For me, as it is for many people, the theme has to do with uncertainty, not having control, and not being able to predict the outcome of certain future events. Despite my profession as a psychologist, unfortunately I don’t get a pass on this emotion. However, I came across a personal journal entry from a while back that was a helpful reminder to me of how mindfulness has become my ally over the years in working with anxiety. Here are some ways that mindfulness has helped me when I’m feeling anxious, and how it can help you. (Give it a try, even if you have never practiced mindfulness!)
At the time of this journal entry, one of my children was traveling abroad and I lost contact with her. Rationally I knew she was having trouble getting cell service and may be out of range for stretches of time. However, that knowledge did not stop the anxiety from coming in full force, when my texts went unanswered for what felt like an interminable period of time. Sitting with the uncertainty and waiting was very difficult. Being swallowed up in the anxiety felt unbearable. Yet here is where mindfulness became my friend.
Instead of thinking to myself “I’m so anxious”, I found it helpful to say, “I’m noticing anxiety in my body and I’m noticing worry thoughts zooming through my mind.” Naming what was arising helped create a little bit of space between my direct experience and the witnessing self. In that space, there was an opportunity to breathe – to literally remember to connect in with my breath. Following my breath brought me out of my head and helped to calm my body, and it helped to ease the tension there just a few notches.
Instead of staying completely caught in my anxiety, as I would have in the past, I was able to notice it, and observe it from a slight distance. It was still happening, but I was able to see it instead of being completely swallowed up whole within it.
Besides noticing the physical sensation of tension in my muscles and being “on edge” in my body, I noticed my mind pulling me into future imagined fears, as well as reliving past ones that were not relevant to this situation. My mind seems to love to do this more often than I’d care to admit, looping and ruminating in unhelpful ways. I might not be able to stop this, but when I can see it happening, in that seeing there is an opportunity to catch myself and step back into this moment.
In these moments of coming back, I can step out of the story in my head and feel my feet back on the ground (literally), connecting myself to the floor beneath me, and to the present, to what is actually here. When I can see my mind jumping from A to Z, I can remind myself that I am only at A, or maybe B. I don’t have to live at Z. I can come back, again and again.
When I am able to step out of my tunnel vision closing in on me, I can also see the beauty of the woods out my window and notice the sun (hidden for so many days) shimmering through the trees. I can come back to the facts of the situation (my child has not yet responded to my text) and recognize the element of story my mind is embellishing (something bad has happened, she's not OK).
Mindfulness also offers something else for me. It reminds me to bring compassion to myself and to what I am experiencing. It allows me to turn towards what I am feeling and sit with my fear the way I might sit with a good friend, or a small child. Life is hard sometimes. As someone who experienced loss at an early age, I know that as much as I like to grasp onto the illusion of control, there is much that is out of my control. This is a hard truth. When I can rest in a mindful space and accept myself for whatever I’m feeling, there is more ease to bear whatever is happening. Instead of disconnecting from myself (e.g., by pushing my feelings away or judging myself for how I’m feeling), I remain on my own side.
To become a compassionate mindful witness, I like to think of the metaphor of sitting in the audience watching a performance on stage (something I refer to as the “Audience view” in my newest book). When I am gripped by anxiety, I am like the actor on stage, caught in the drama. When I take the “audience view” there is an observing self that notices from the audience that Beth is anxious. This aware self sees what is arising without identifying with it. Importantly, this aware self is not dispassionate but has an attitude of caring attention (think watching a niece or nephew at a school play). From the audience view, I can notice what is happening from a wider perspective than the small self on stage.
Anxiety and the uncertainties in life that go along with it are part of our human condition. Thankfully in the moment I described above, I got a text from my daughter (big sigh of relief). Now, again, I find myself with uncertainty about other things.
What I can be certain of is this: We all experience anxiety from time to time. Cultivating mindful awareness to help us notice what is arising, and to separate out what is actually happening from the stories in our heads, can create a bit of breathing space in which to remind ourselves to come back to this moment. And in this moment, we can sit with ourselves, side by side with our fears, wrapped in the loving arms of compassion – and know that we are not alone.
How Mindfulness Can Tame Anxiety
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09.05.2024
Over the past couple of days, I’ve noticed that I’ve been feeling more anxious than usual. For me, as it is for many people, the theme has to do with uncertainty, not having control, and not being able to predict the outcome of certain future events. Despite my profession as a psychologist, unfortunately I don’t get a pass on this emotion. However, I came across a personal journal entry from a while back that was a helpful reminder to me of how mindfulness has become my ally over the years in working with anxiety. Here are some ways that mindfulness has helped me when I’m feeling anxious, and how it can help you. (Give it a try, even if you have never practiced mindfulness!)
At the time of this journal entry, one of my children was traveling abroad and I lost contact with her. Rationally I knew she was having trouble getting cell service and may be out of range for stretches of time. However, that knowledge did not stop the anxiety from coming in full force, when my texts went unanswered for what felt like an interminable period of time. Sitting with the uncertainty and waiting was very difficult. Being swallowed up in the anxiety felt unbearable. Yet here is where mindfulness became my friend.
Instead of thinking to myself “I’m so anxious”, I found it helpful to say, “I’m noticing anxiety in my body and........
© Psychology Today
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