O'Grady Psychology Associates

Psychotherapy, Marriage Counseling, Neuropsychological Assessment

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How to Be Sad

Psychotherapy for depression helps people accept that we can't force happiness.There’s a plethora of information about happiness.

My literature search on this subject yielded over 13,000 scholarly research articles and over one thousand books. Advice about how to be happy floods the internet daily with simplistic listicles and click-bait articles that make it all seem so easy.

But their advice, like telling a sad person to think about all the reasons they shouldn’t be sad, or a depressed person to just get up and exercise, doesn’t work. Thinking about the good things in life can sometimes ameliorate sad feelings, but usually, trying to grasp at happiness when in the grip of a depressed mood leads to failure. And while the research on exercise’s positive effect on depression is robust and persuasive, depressed people lack the drive to work out: that’s what depression means.

These suggestions, though well-meant, amount to telling depressed persons to snap out of it—or it’s their fault. This shames the sufferer, making things worse. And the resulting family strife doesn’t help. Well-intentioned spouses and parents who believe that snapping out of it actually is within a depressed person’s power will eventually succumb to exasperation and resignation.

A recent New York Times article gives suggestions for eliminating negative thinking, and paraphrases  Rick Hanson, author of Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence: ” it might be helpful to ask yourself if you are accomplishing anything by dwelling on your negative thoughts.”

Depressed people have negative thoughts. Understandable. When we’re depressed, we’re likely to feel hopeless, inadequate, and a failure. While practicing controlled breathing and mindfulness even with your eyes open, as the article suggests, will help, how do we get to the point of making these actions regular parts of daily life? When sadness overwhelms, it is often impossible to follow well-meaning suggestions with regularity. Like New Years’ resolutions, these techniques fade quickly.

When Sadness is Normal

Sometimes sadness is normal. Experiencing a range of feelings in reaction to painful life events is understandable; these life stressors would make most of us depressed. When psychologists see a client for a first appointment, we assess mood, its duration, and the severity of distress. Is the client’s symptoms within normal limits given the precipitant for entering therapy, e.g., a marital crisis, job loss, or death of a family member? We would say a client’s feelings are “within normal limits” when they come to therapy with sadness after losing a loved one.

In my own practice, a former client returned to treatment recently because his wife had just died. He spoke of his inability to shake the feelings of loss and sadness. It had only been four weeks, and he asked me if it is normal to feel depressed, and the question that inevitably follows: how long it will last? It’s okay to feel sad—but to someone grieving, the feelings can be so intense that time stands still. Four weeks can feel like four years.

It’s hard to feel deep emotional distress, of course. Indeed, because suffering is part of the human condition, we’ve devised a vast repertoire of ways to avoid experiencing our painful emotions and worrisome thoughts, including self-medicating by substance use, distraction by Facebook and other media outlets, and much more. Americans account for two-thirds of the global market for antidepressants, which also happen to be the most commonly prescribed drugs in the United States. These drugs can play a vital role in helping many people cope with chronic depression, but all too often these medications are over prescribed or prescribed without looking at inner sources of depression.

When Positive Thinking and Life Coaching Make it Worse

Or, life coaches with little training in mood disorders are prescribing positive thinking the way many physicians prescribe mood stabilizers, but even positive thinking strategies are ways to avoid painful feelings. I have seen the disastrous results of life coaches who work remotely from home, charging enormous amounts of money to people desperate for help. Sadly, these coaches have not laid eyes on the people they propose to help. They are unable to see the dangerous weight loss or weight gain or pick up the nuanced suicidal non-verbal communications.

One client I saw judged himself to be a failure after his six-month life-coaching sessions because he was unable to feel better or do the things the coach was suggesting. When I saw him after his failed coaching experience, he was in a deep depression, his sadness palpable. I asked if he was suicidal and he admitted that he was—something his coach had never asked about. Alerting his partner and suggesting hospitalization was imperative. Alarmingly, he had already seen three different psychiatrists and obtained antidepressants from each, and not one of them had inquired about suicidality.

Another example from my practice is that of a woman who saw a life coach because she hated her job. They talked about the need to follow her bliss and sever ties with her employer. She took this advice, quit her job, and when her unemployment ended, she was unable to find another job. Despondent, she came to therapy to help sort out her feelings about her life and to find a way to understand why she was unhappy at her former job. She needed to understand her role in how she was sabotaging herself. She took the long road to what ultimately brought her fullness and acceptance of life and work.

Accepting Suffering as Unavoidable

Suffering can’t be avoided. (In Buddhism, it’s the first Noble Truth.) But allowing ourselves to express sadness and to accept deep pain will eventually allow these feelings to dissipate; blocking emotions only deepens problems. Also, giving ourselves time to settle into feeling allows us to recognize that they ebb and flow. Through this, we can accept that while old age and death are inevitable, and feeling sad is part of living, suffering is impermanent. By being able to sit with emotions and not get caught up in either rumination or anxious fretting, we develop a steadiness of mind. Meditation works by settling our turbulent thoughts and emotions so that we can titrate them into tolerable moments.

What works

When sadness becomes major depression, positive thinking (and related approaches, such as life coaching) are like putting a Band-Aid on a gushing wound. Facing our pain, learning to bear our suffering, and then doing the deep inner work of understanding our role in our troubles is a way out. It is often slow and filled with obstacles. Here are some steps in the process:

  1. Become aware of subtle emotions as you experience them. By becoming aware of emotions as you feel them, rather than pushing them away, you will be better able to use them to employ coping strategies.

 

  1. When emotions become intense, know that feelings don’t stay that way forever. All emotions are transient. Practices such as regular meditation help us not just to become aware of feeling but also not to indulge them.

 

  1. Remember that subtle change is hard to see. A broken bone mends slowly; in the early stages, healing is hardly noticeable on an X-ray.

 

  1. Look deeply at ourselves and the role we play in our mood. Doing so opens what is within, leading to understanding and insight.

 

  1. Take into account what precipitates depression. Learning to tolerate understandable sadness and some depression helps normalize what we are experiencing. All emotions have a role to play in living well; we must accept and not disown our most difficult feelings.

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Waking up on the Grumpy Side of the Bed: Coping with difficult moods

Coping with depression and difficult emotions.“Yesterday all day a small gardenia was a great consolation.”

Thomas Merton

A Year with Thomas Merton: Daily Meditations from His Journals

Some days are harder than others. It’s tempting to find something or someone to blame, even if it’s just the wrong side of the bed. Yesterday, I woke up grumpy, but instead of fault-finding, I announced to my family that I was grumpy and not to take anything that happens between us too personally.

My bad mood persisted through breakfast. In fact, I kind of enjoyed feeling grumpy. Especially because there was no apparent reason and I didn’t care to find one. I felt defiant.

I took my hike as I usually do, on this sunny morning. I begrudgingly admitted it was a stunning day. Yet my mood persisted—and became worse as a large group of hikers, some meet-up group or club, began to pass me on the narrow trail. As I walked in the opposite direction up the hill while they clomped down, one by one, they each said good morning, smiling as if the day was something really special. In my sour mood I thought, ”How many more are there? Don’t they realize that, as one person going against the tide of walkers, I would already have been greeted numerous times? And how many more good mornings and fake smiles do I have to return?”

Many, many more, it turned out, because the group numbered more than 80. And every single person smiled at me and said “Good morning,” or a variant of it. By about the 40th person, something happened without any volition on my part: I began to smile back with genuine happiness. At first, it was in amusement at my grumpy predicament of sharing a trail with 80 very happy hikers, but as the group moved past me, I felt a stirring of good will toward these cheerful strangers, who had unknowingly softened my mood.

Sometimes moods are like that: inexplicable and unpredictable. As a psychotherapist, I help people articulate their feelings. More expansive and more integrated awareness of emotions, achieved through therapy and mindfulness practice, helps people respond more healthily and flexibly in the moment and day by day. By doing so, we can change the quality of our lives.

It can feel as though we’re overpowered by emotions. We can become so absorbed in them that we become identified with what we feel and lose the ability to witness them. A simple misunderstanding with a friend can become an all-consuming and unbearable wound. In such cases, we risk getting stuck in a contracted state that can lead to depression or avoidance behaviors such as overeating, drinking, shopping, or sleeping, which provide a temporary illusion of feeling good. But as we know, those actions backfire, leading to more guilt and less overall effectiveness.

Noting and naming emotions, in contrast, gives us a path past denial or avoidance into acceptance, letting go, and even gratitude.

Sometimes our moods are not just difficult, but serious mood disorders, such as major depression. If feelings of sadness last longer than two weeks, and interfere with daily activities, it is important to get help from a psychotherapist to determine if psychotherapy and medication would benefit. Mindfulness-based cognitive therapy is often a good treatment for depression.

The solution is not to ignore our difficult moods, but to acknowledge them as they arise. In some situations we will be able to trace what we feel to a particular event that we can bring insight to. For other moods, like my waking up grumpy for no apparent reason, we accept them and watch what happens next, much as we do with the weather. Eighty happy hikers eventually made me smile and my bad mood passed as they passed by. That was essentially effortless, but it is often quite effortful to cope with hard emotions.

When we cultivate a disposition that witnesses and accepts passing experiences, we become more stable. In mindfulness meditation or contemplative prayer, we accept thoughts and feelings without judgment and with open and spacious awareness. Emotions arise and pass without interference. I acknowledged my grumpiness and warned my family not to mind me. In doing so, I took responsibility rather than looking for someone or something to blame. This allowed me not only to be open to my bad mood, but also to become open to the good mood that emerged later on.

Sometimes, of course, bad moods can arise for good reasons, not just something that inexplicably overtakes us. In his journal, Thomas Merton describes waking up with heart palpitations and shortness of breath, surely cause for concern. But instead of dwelling on his fear, he starts his page by recognizing the small gardenia as a consolation. He describes walking out into the woods and gazing at the tall straight oaks, closing his journal entry for that day with the lines:

“Sweet afternoon! Cool breezes and a clear sky! This day will not come again. The bulls lie under the tree in the corner of their field. Quiet afternoon! The blue hills, the daylilies in the wind. This day will not come again.”

That is more than acceptance; it’s real gratitude. It starts with accepting all our moods, the grumpy and the grateful. Without that, we can only approximate gratitude in a kind of pretending. With my softened mood, I continued on my way, grateful to the hikers, and happy to be spending my morning in the hills.

 

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The Elusive Muse: Reclaiming creativity and focus

NorthernLights
Photo by Marcelo Quinan, Unsplash

For three months, I’ve resisted writing. I sat at my desk or the kitchen table—my favorite place to write—to compose an essay, but distraction beckoned me at every turn. The muse, that slippery, elusive impulse to create words from experiences and observations, had gone missing. Each week I’d tell myself that I’d write over the weekend, and Sunday night would come with nothing to show.

Wonderful ideas came at moments in my psychotherapy work, or on a hike, or in conversations with friends. I had flashes of insight, but writing them down was the tricky part. I used apps like Evernote and Pocket to collect interesting, pertinent articles to reference. I’d write a few lines and a title, but not finish the post. In fact, my Mac desktop became so cluttered with ideas and open pages that I was overwhelmed with all the fragments of potential posts staring back at me, giving me a glimpse into the world of attention deficit disorder (ADD). The mindscape becomes so cluttered with snippets of thoughts and ideas that nothing sticks for long, and nothing gets finished.

When Ancient Greeks needed inspiration, they’d call upon the muses. The one I’ve been needing is Calliope, the goddess of epic poetry and eloquence. Socrates said that when a muse takes hold of us, we’re compelled to create.

It would be great if invoking the muse were all there was to it. But the muse alone is not enough. Focus and perseverance provide the steam, the energy that gets things going. As Victor Hugo said, “Persistence is necessary to accomplish most anything of value.”

Claude Monet (1840–1926) offers a good example of persistence. He painted his garden at Giverny, France, with its beautiful water lilies, some 250 times over the last 30 years of his life. Some water-lily paintings were enormous murals, some were smaller canvases. “Know that I am absorbed by work,” he wrote in a 1908 letter, when he was 68. “These landscapes of water and reflections have become an obsession. It is beyond my power as an old man, and yet I want to arrive at rendering what I feel. I have destroyed some. . . . Some I recommence . . . and I hope that after so many efforts, something will come out” (quoted in Monet, Narcissus, and Self-Reflection: The Modernist Myth of the Self by Steven Z. Levine, p. 206).

Despite being displeased with his work, feeling that it failed to capture his intentions, and despite the cataracts that plagued him until a 1923 operation, Monet persisted. And he succeeded in creating some of the world’s most famous and best-loved art: his water-lily paintings hang in museums all over the world.

Monet found his work absorbing to the point of obsession even when he had to destroy canvases. Many people, though, find it hard to persist in tasks that are unrewarding.

In my three months of a writing slump, I did not persist. I gave up when the writing didn’t come easily. Sitting at the computer to write, I gave in to mind-numbing web browsing.

I had distractions besides the internet. Of course, I work nearly full-time as a psychologist, and have home and family obligations. The holidays took over a big portion of my attention, updating my software entailed much time-consuming tinkering, and my 24-year-old daughter told me she was leaving to work on an mhealth project in Darfur, Sudan, to help the 90,000 displaced people living in refugee camps. I learned a lot in the last month about that region’s history and its genocides. Letting young adults make their own choices is the right thing to do…but still, I kept searching for recent news from Sudan, and that was a big distraction from my own writing.

At one point, my friend Sarah told me, “Susan, I think you need to get back to your blogging—besides, we all miss your posts.” In Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (WaterBrook Press, 2001), Madeleine L’Engle quotes an unknown writer on the subject of discipline: “If I leave my work for a day, it leaves me for three,” going on to cite Arthur Rubinstein: ”If I don’t practice the piano for one day I know it. If I don’t practice it for two days my family knows it. If I don’t practice it for three days, my public knows it” (p. 196). By that formula, I will need a lot of catching up to do. But fortunately, I love to write, and I sense that the muse is not lost. She may have been taking a break, but she is near.

I have learned a few things over these last few months about how to make space for the muse to re-enter. Some ways to refocus:

  1. Tidy your computer’s home screen. Close all windows except the document you are working on; turn notifications off. Open a browser window only if it relates to your project. You can also try an app that blocks distractions.
  2. If you have a noisy environment, try headphones and/or closing the door to minimize distractions.
  3. Keep a regular schedule. As William Faulkner said, “I only write when I am inspired. Fortunately I am inspired at 9 o’clock every morning.” Return to that schedule after vacations, holidays, or sickness.
  4. If you’re having trouble finding sustained time to write, try working in “chunks.” Break up your writing task into manageable pieces that you can accomplish in half an hour or 45 minutes. Then, knowing you have (say) half an hour before starting dinner, you can work on a half-hour chunk.
  5. Be mindful of self-care—get good sleep, eat well, exercise, and make time to relax.
  6. Don’t call your mother unless you’ve finished your writing task for the day.
  7. Cultivate will power and self-control.
  8. Write even when you don’t feel inspired.

One of the reasons that mindfulness has gained such traction is that most of us know we are only half awake. We use only a small part of our mental and physical resources. As William James wrote, being cut off from our creative resources leads to feeling as if a “sort of cloud weighed upon us, keeping us below our highest notch or clearness in discernment, sureness in reasoning, or firmness in deciding.” On Vital Reserves: The Energies of Men (The Perfect Library, 1833).

James observed, that in a single successful effort of will, such as saying ”no” to mindless temptation, we gain vitality and reanimate our energy for days and weeks, giving us a new range of power. Giving in to habitual avoidance behaviors, only provides temporary escape, and ultimately leads to fatigue and inertia. It is not what we do that causes fatigue, but what we don’t do.

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Accepting Life’s Turbulence: Fasten Your Seatbelt

Life brings ups and downs and finding a way through the stormy turbulence takes courage and grace.
Thunder Cloud from 37,000 ft

This dramatic cumulonimbus was captured at 37,000 feet over the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. Pilots know to avoid going near these thunderclouds, charting a course around them for the comfort of passengers and safety of the aircraft. Even coming close will cause turbulence—the jet trembles and shakes, often violently.

Pilots rate turbulence as mild, medium, or severe. Thankfully, excellent communication between pilots means that patches of bumpy air can be predicted well ahead of time and avoided by changing elevation or course. But sometimes turbulence is unavoidable. In that situation, fearful flyers grip armrests, pop benzodiazepines, and turn up the volume on their headsets. Eventually the air smooths out, and everyone releases their breath…and their grips.

Staying Steady During Turbulent Times

Jet travel is a great metaphor for life. Sometimes the bumpy moments are so extreme that there’s nothing you can do but sit with it and hope you don’t have to pee. But sitting with the rocky ups and downs of life isn’t always easy.

When a pilot acquaintance asked me how to survive the turbulence of his current marriage problems, I asked him what he tells his passengers to do when the flight encounters a rough patch.

He said, “I tell them to fasten their seat belts.” We have all heard the familiar words, “The captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.” Now, I confess I sometimes use this moment to zip down the now suddenly empty aisle to use the lavatory (but only in mild turbulence.)  But basically, in bad weather you need to stay seated and wait it out.

I enjoy flying, but that wasn’t always true. I was a fearful flyer for about six years. I wasn’t phobic, I didn’t avoid flying or have panic attacks, but I was alert to every squeal of the engine, movement of the wing flaps, or ring of a cabin bell,. During euphemistically described moments of “bumpy air,” I would glance up at the flight attendants’ faces to see if they were showing signs of concern.

I wasn’t afraid of heights or of being in an enclosed space—my fear was simply of crashing. Kaput, end of life, and the imagined 60 seconds of sheer terror I expected to feel going headlong into death.

We have no control over death. Once I came to terms with accepting that I could die in a plane crash, I became less afraid. It wasn’t that I was convinced by statistics showing how rare such deaths are; fearful flyers are rarely comforted by the statistics. Acceptance, in contrast, goes a long way in dealing with the bumps we encounter in life.

I found out this week that I have a 50/50 chance of having the genetic mutation associated with hereditary breast and ovarian cancer (HBOC). My family on both sides has had lots of cancer. But through advanced genetic testing, I now know that my family members have the BRCA2 mutation going back three generations. As I await the results of my blood test, I am again reminded of our lack of control. For me, it’s the toss of a coin: I either have it or I don’t. If I do, I have an 85% chance of developing breast cancer and lower risk of other cancers (ovarian, pancreatic, melanoma, and stomach). I am not comforted by those odds.

Flying has infinitely better odds. But after a week of emotional turbulence, I will meet my fate with HBOC with as much grace as I can muster. It hasn’t been an easy week, to be sure, veering between certainty of bad results and certainty of escape. So while I wait and hope that I end up on the happier side of the 50-50 split, I will fasten my seatbelt and try to steer as safe a course through the thunderstorm as I can, with all the support I’ve gathered over the years: family, friendship, work that I love, and resources (such as FORCE). Coping skills, like seat belts, keep us safe. While we generally don’t enjoy restraints, a seatbelt helps to contain our emotions so they are less likely to overwhelm.

I am reminded, once again, of a lesson taught by Thich Nhat Hanh: “When we have a toothache, we know that not having a toothache is a wonderful thing.” (Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life, 1992, p. 38). Finding comfort in the face of difficulty is possible—by riding out the painful moments and trusting that the next moment contains a potential fullness, some simple pleasure waiting to be noticed. So when the seatbelt sign is again turned off,  you are free to move about the cabin. Add take a deep breath.

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We Fear What We Cannot Control: Acknowledging Pain and Suffering

Learning to live with the things we have no control over.The German airplane crash by a suicidal pilot, the Florida shootings, the Boston bombings. Every week, we read about innocent people getting hurt or killed. We try to avoid pain and suffering; we teach children to look both ways before crossing the street, wash their hands after using the bathroom, and not to get into strangers’ cars. Even as we reassure our kids that no monsters live under their beds, we know that in the apartment down the street, there lives a convicted sex offender. How do we cope with life’s uncertainty and fear?

 

The Monster Under the Bed

We are saturated with information. Not long ago, we’d read a morning or evening newspaper and maybe watch the evening news; today, the news cycle is 24/7. And, because dramatically scary stories get our attention, the media makes sure to foreground them—not just what’s happening locally, but world-wide. We end up perceiving fearful threats all around us. The truth is, though, that we tend to overestimate certain kinds of risk while underestimating others. For example, as the Vancouver Sun notes, “We warn our kids not to talk to strangers even though 90 per cent of sexual abuse is committed by someone a child knows. And we freak out about plane crashes despite the fact driving is about 65 times more dangerous.” (“How much risk do you live with?”)

Studying how people evaluate threats, or “risk perception,” helps show why this is so. Psychologist Paul Slovic has studied the subject for many years; here, blogger Sara Gorman sums up his findings: “People tend to be intolerant of risks that they perceive as being uncontrollable, having catastrophic potential, having fatal consequences, or bearing an inequitable distribution of risks and benefits.” Plane crashes feel more uncontrollable than car crashes; strangers feel scarier than people we know. But control is an illusion. Life is full of uncontrollable things, people, and events, so how do we handle risk?

We cope by using reason and denial. Reasonably, we know that life always involves some risk and that we have a natural tendency to inflate threats. You can probably think of one thing you tend to worry about needlessly or unproductively. Can you really do anything about it? Needless worry robs us of a sense well-being; straining to control things beyond our reach only creates tension. But wait—denial? Isn’t that supposed to be a bad thing? Yes, denial is counterproductive when it keeps you from acknowledging harm that you’re doing to yourself or others, like smoking, cheating on a spouse, or abusing your child. But psychologists recognize that the use of denial can be advantageous in many situations. According to the Mayo Clinic, “A short period of denial can be helpful. Being in denial gives your mind the opportunity to unconsciously absorb shocking or distressing information . . . . For example, after a traumatic event, you might need several days or weeks to process what’s happened and come to grips with the challenges ahead.” Be patient and gentle with yourself in the wake of trauma.

We also must learn to balance risk against what we lose by being too careful. When we’re too sensitive to fearful possibilities, we become paralyzed. Not letting your daughter walk home from school with her friends because a car could run a red light, or a vicious dog might be on the loose, may seem protective. But overprotectiveness is harmful because it deprives children of practicing the mastery and independence they need to grow up successfully. And, more subtly and unintentionally, your anxiety seeps into her without either of you knowing the source.

 

What if the monster under the bed survives because your imagination feeds it every night?

 

Kids need to find their own strength by testing themselves in the world. That can start as early as learning to sleep alone, in their own beds. (While in some cultures sharing a family bed is the norm, children may be given other opportunities to practice self-soothing and frustration tolerance.) Kids and parents often resist the stage when they need to soothe themselves to sleep. When we know our child is distressed and may be fearful, we rush to give comfort. But allowing a child to sleep between her parents can come at the expense of intimacy in the marriage. By resisting letting a child sleep alone, parents deprive them of learning to calm themselves and tolerate frustration. For a fuller explanation of this problem and how to address it, see Dr. David O’Grady’s “Help Your Child Sleep Alone: The Snoozeeasy Program For Bedtime Fears. ”The important thing is that we convey trust that our child can manage the little and big things that come their way and feel they have the ability to self-regulate their emotional reactions.

Of course, being able to manage emotions doesn’t mean that bad things don’t happen. In mindfulness practices, we teach that suffering is an inevitable part of living. Sickness, accidents, money problems, frustrations, and worries: There is much in life that we have no control over, and as if worrying about the present isn’t enough, we tend to ruminate over past events or future possibilities.

Even spiritual people who actively practice mindfulness can’t escape suffering. In fact, “life is suffering” is the first Noble Truth of Buddhism. I remember listening to an audio interview with the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan Buddhist leader known for his calm serenity. He coughed and hacked his way through the interview, clearing his throat every few minutes. It was an unpleasant sound, but because I was on my treadmill, I didn’t want to stop and find another CD. I suffered along with the Dalai Lama. At the conclusion of the interview, he took questions from the audience. The question was asked; “Dalai Lama, do you suffer?” He answered, “Of course I suffer, I have been coughing this entire time and it is very uncomfortable.”

And as if present suffering isn’t enough, letting worry about the past or future take hold leads to more suffering. When we suffer from the fears we have about the dangerous, uncertain world we live in, we may think the answer is to run away somehow: shopping, clicking, using drugs or alcohol, or eating when we’re not hungry, for example. But pursuing pleasure doesn’t make our painful fears go away. Instead, our efforts backfire because we feel guilt, or dig ourselves deeper into debt, or become unhealthy—and the fear still exists.

Learning to look at our suffering and accept that it exists is a skill. Meditation or relaxation training can help us develop the skill of self-soothing, thereby enabling us to feel less afraid of both real and imagined monsters. As we do this, we also help those around us to be calmer and stronger.

 

How to Self-Soothe

 

Practice some form of deep relaxation, meditation, or yoga daily. This will change your psychophysiological baseline so that you are generally more resilient when worry or stress takes over.

  1. Accept that that suffering is part of life. We suffer, our children will suffer, and strangers we hear about in the news suffer. Acknowledging suffering helps because we are not pushing fears down, which paradoxically only makes them grow larger.
  2. Develop a spiritual practice. This helps us develop the strength to look deeply at our suffering; the insights gained about ourselves provide perspective and something to hold onto when our fears run amok.
  3. During difficult moments, use a short breathing practice (such as the Three-Minute Breathing Space or just silent focus on your breath) to stay calm during difficult moments. Being conscious of our breathing brings mindfulness to the present moment and helps pause the thought stream of rumination.
  4. Recognize your suffering without judgment. Some fears are truly awful, yet by staying in the present moment, we avoid getting trapped by our thinking. Look deeply at the source of your feelings, find their roots, and work on transforming the fears that need to be changed. This will allow space to nourish the feelings that bring peace and well-being.

This short relaxation exercise may help you to develop skills to relax in moments of anxiety and worry, as well as provide a foundation to help change the automatic, reflexive ways your mind and body respond to stress.  https://youtu.be/TCCA1kGSnB8