Buddhist Psychological Practices That Can Help Relieve Anxiety
Many people use the words fear and anxiety interchangeably, as if they
referred to identical emotional states. Yet while we may conceive of the
two words as entirely corresponding, the neurobiology are quite
different. The physiological reactions that occur when we hear the
crackling sound of footsteps behind us, while walking alone on a wooded
trail, creates a soaring heart rate, a knotted stomach, an limbs
activated, ready to run. In some truly overwhelming situations, we may
literally 'freeze' with fear, unable to move, such as someone frozen in
the path of a charging bear or tiger.
Meanwhile, anxiety doesn't fully urge us to fight, flee or freeze; it is
there to alert us to the possibility of danger: slight dizziness,
nausea, dry mouth and racing, repetitive thoughts. Anxiety primes us
only to worry even more.
Many clinicians define fear as a negative reaction triggered by present,
dangerous stimuli (such as the sound of a bear in the woods), whereas
anxiety is triggered by uncertainty: while we're anxious no real threat
is actually present; we're simply alert to the possibility of future,
unseen dangers.
To put it simply: We can point to our fears, while we're anxious about what we don't know.
It's worth noting that any or all of the sensations present during a
fearful event can, in the future, turn into the triggers of subsequent
anxiety disorders. This is due to the part of the brain that is most
alert and functioning during threatening situations -- the amygdala --
which is not particularly smart or discerning; it records whatever seems
important during a menacing event, unable to discern what is benign
from what's dangerous. Let's use an example: While driving and listening
to an old Ramones song we wind up in a car collision, the same Ramones
tune in the future might activate anxiety -- we'll feel nauseous and
uncomfortable, though the tune had nothing to do with the accident. In
the future, our discomfort with the Ramones will strike us as
mysterious, if we even note the connection.
Another example: suppose the once, during our childhood, perhaps in the
second grade, a teacher wearing a cardigan asks us a question and when
our answer is disappointing, the teacher shames us in front of a
classroom of our peers. In the future we may very well become anxious
around people who wear brown cardigans; once again we won't discern why,
and may well add spurious reasons to justify our discomfort and
disapproval.
So everything recorded during a hazard can turn into a trigger for
anxiety. Why is the amygdala so fallible? Well, a 'fast and dirty alarm
system in the brain' helped to keep our ancestors alive; think of them
living hundreds of thousands of years ago in a world filled with
predators, the average life expectancy barely 20 years. So the midbrain
needed to work fast. This is why it is preconscious, working at too
quickly for conscious oversight, which would only slow it down. Yes,
conscious awareness would be more accurate in discerning what's truly
dangerous from what's safe, but consciousness is far too slow to save us
from lurking bears or coiled snakes, so evolution decided that its
better to be safe than sorry, to mistake a few sticks for snakes. Even
if we wind up, later on, needlessly terrified of entirely safe people,
places and things.
Anxiety is very human trait that relies on our ability to anticipate and
speculate about the future; imagination allows us to visualize
impossible outcomes and unlikely scenarios -- and to worry about them.
The capacity to fantasize can allow us to write wonderful books, plot
charming movies and paint beautiful paintings, not to mention construct
utopian ideals to strive towards, but worry can lead to spiraling
thoughts, insomnia, psychological disorders aplenty; much of the content
of our minds no longer serve us well, rendering us tormented and, at
times, isolated and distraught.
Yes, the mind can really play tricks that make it all to easy to abandon
the present, which is, of course, the only place of true safety and
utility. When we find the mind latching onto unlikely narratives that we
can't reason with or let go, sometimes we have to learn how to trick
the mind into disarming itself.
Here are some spiritual tools we can use:
Long, smooth rewarding exhalations are the first, go-to practice when
working with anxiety; long exhalations relax that vagal-vagus nerve,
which sends messages to the midbrain, via what's called the insula,
essentially telling the amygdala which activates fear: "Everything's
okay, I'm safe."
The second solution is to greet, rather than resist or even dread, our
worries and anxieties each time they arise: note how the Buddha welcomed
his inner tormentor, Mara, always with great patience. Personally, I
even give my personal demons names, but I never give my anxieties
negative or condescending titles; the point of greeting each visitor is
to avoid believing that worry is actually who I am, rather than just a
visitor in the mind. If I don't identify with anxiety, I can give it
permission to arise without resistance or clinging. So when the sweaty
hands, tension and racing thoughts begin, I simply think "Welcome
anxiety. You're allowed." While this might sound counterproductive,
reducing the resistance to anxiety has been clinically shown, in a wide
variety of MBSR studies, to reduce the strength and duration of anxiety
attacks. I've found this out over and over again through the years, the
faster I grant permission to an emotional energy to arise, the less
painful it feels and the faster it passes.
Affect labeling, a clinical term for noting our emotional states, either
aloud or in handwriting -- "I'm frightened/anxious/scared" -- has been
shown to be effective as well. A study of high school students
demonstrated that those who wrote out their fears before taking an exam
invariably fared better in the test and experienced less trepidation.
If, after we've journaled out an anxiety, worry returns with some energy
in persistence, remind it that we've given it time to vent, now its our
turn to enjoy life for a little while, until our next journal session.
After a few days pass we can return to these notations; with a fresh
perspective we may note that anxiety is actually the activation of an
'inner child' that believes every new challenge in life will lead to
abandonment and disaster; in essence a repetition of childhood
abandonments or traumas. While we've grown up to be adults, our fears
still view the world from the perspective of a frightened infant, seeing
annihilation around every corner.
Another tactic is to question our anxiety honestly and with interest,
trying to understand its logic: I use the question "And why is that so
bad?" Generally this practice reveals the insanity belying most of my
anxiety. For example, many years ago, when I was anxious about an
upcoming meeting with a higher up at work, I put this practice into use:
I asked: "And why am I worrying about speaking with my boss?" My
anxiety responded: "Because they might fire me!" "And why would that be
so bad? "I might wind up penniless and unable to pay my rent!" "And why
would that so bad?" "I'll be homeless, living on the streets! Vulnerable
to roving gangs -- I might be stabbed and killed." And so, with a few
questions, the overblown and ludicrous nature of my anxiety was revealed
-- it turned a meeting with my employer into a life threatening
endeavor.
Finally, I'd also like to recommend the Buddhist practice of appropriate
attention: Yoniso Manasikara in pali. The Buddha described this
practice as "understanding the appeal, drawbacks and escape from
behaviors that cause suffering." (sn 12, Nidana-samyutta Sutta)
Let's investigate the worrying mind through the lens of appropriate attention:
The Appeal of Anxiety and Worry: dreading possible future calamities,
visualizing catastrophes, appeals to the mind as it creates a false of
being prepared for unwanted developments. When I worry, I believe I'm
less likely to be caught off guard, which makes me feel safer.
The Drawback of Anxiety and Worry: conjuring up a variety of
misfortunes, most of which will never come to pass, creates an unquiet
mind that cannot settle peacefully into the present moment, where
speculated catastrophes have yet to occur; the mind prone to worrying
doesn't appreciate times of joy, as it is forever surveying the
imagination for disasters looming in the realm of possibilities.
The Skillful Escape from Anxiety and Worry: given that the worrying mind
is seeking a sense of security -- which is revealed through reviewing
its appeal -- I might ask myself: "what skillful ways can I provide the
mind with a sense of security in times of uncertainty?" Skillful escapes
generally require creativity. I might conclude that rather than
worrying, my mind would more fruitfully establish a sense of security by
reflecting on all the times in life I've been caught off guard by
sudden events -- job losses, relationships dissolving -- yet survived
without any preparation. Such a reflections build a sense of
reassurance, and meet our underlying need.
I hope the above is of help to some and worth any time you invested into it.
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