I have anxieties. My mind is beautiful in its ability to be creative, find solutions, and see things in perspective, but it is also a place where I create a lot of worries and give birth to so much emotional tension. I am grateful for the positive, creative side of that brain with its never-ending supply of ideas, and I am working on better managing the negative anxiety-producing side of my brain’s creativity. There are times when I do well and channel all that creative energy towards something beautiful, positive, and joyful, and there are periods when I spiral into an overpowering darkness of worries.
The other day as I was running on the trail, I had a big ‘aha’ moment about managing this balance. It was on a technically challenging trail with a lot of rocks and uneven terrain, which was not the easiest to run. I had to pay attention to every step and use my full focus so that my feet would land on the right spot and I would not twist my ankle. I had to be quick, precise, and flexible with my muscle movements. Even though I was running in a beautiful scenery, I could not lift up my eyes from the trail even for a second because I needed to constantly look where I was stepping. I could only look around when I slowed down to walk or stopped completely.
During the week leading up to this run, I was very anxious because of everything that was going on around me and I knew I needed to get that negative energy out of my system. I kept running way further and way longer than I normally do, with my eyes glued to the rocks and boulders on the trail. One step, another step, oh watch out for this boulder, step three, step four, go a bit to the side to avoid the small, sharp ones, now a long step over this big round boulder, watch out for that muddy puddle, ouch this sharp one hurt through the sole of my shoe, step seven, eight, nine… My eyes were scanning the terrain and passing the notes to my brain, my brain was sending the signal to my legs, and my legs were reacting with amazing precision and then sending back the signal of ‘so far so good’ after every step. My body and my mind were in sync. There was such beauty in that process that I have a hard time describing it. All of my mind and body functions were synchronized to deliver on the single focus – to make sure I land the next step safely and in a way that will continue to propel me forward.
On that trail I realized, how often I go out of sync in my regular life because I start thinking ten, hundred, thousands of steps ahead. In the trail analogy, I worry what’s going to be around that next corner, I worry about how the top will look when I get there. While my feet are trying to go one step after another, my mind is not helping them because it is racing way, way ahead, disconnected from what’s happening to my feet at that moment. I even get completely ‘off the trail’ because I cannot get my mind to help me lead my legs the right way.
Sports have always been a big part of my life and on this trail I have also realized that in my other sports activities, the best moments happened when I focused on that next step and nothing more. When I played competitive tennis, I could often be nearly paralyzed with nerves, but when I managed to work through them and got to the place where my mind focused solely on how to best hit and place the next ball that’s where my game got to a whole different level. There was sharpness, precision, and determination to get the most out of every shot, to be the fastest I could be in the next sprint, to recharge most efficiently during every break. The mind and the body were in sync to help me deliver the best I could for each next move, nothing more, nothing less. Similarly, with skiing, the speed and challenge often allows me to think about nothing more than the next turn I am going to make and after that the next, and the next. I do not think about what I did five turns back or what I will see when I go all the way down, what matters is to make sure that the next good turn will get me there safely and well.
I have been thinking about how I can take this focus to my day-to-day. I want to get better at focusing on what I can control and the next thing in front of me, as opposed to worrying about what I cannot control and what might happen hundreds of steps down the line. Sometimes, I am able to do that naturally, but often my mind is racing too far ahead.
I have brainstormed and will be testing the following strategies. I am not sure if they will work and perhaps I will discover better ones, but this is for starters for me:
- Visualize. I am very visual, so any visual tools work well for me. I took a short video of my feet walking on the trail. I will look at it in times when my mind starts racing and worrying to remind me – one step at a time, one rock on the trail at a time.
- Break down the task into small pieces. By breaking down the task into small pieces, suddenly, the big scary thing becomes a series of manageable steps. You don’t need a detailed plan for the whole 10 mile trail; you just need to know how to make the next step. As you complete it, the path will unfold.
- Apply ‘done is better than perfect.’ My perfectionist tendencies contribute to my anxiety. On the trail, I took a couple of bad steps that almost led to a twisted ankle, but I quickly adjusted and landed well on the other foot. Those steps weren’t perfect, but they were good enough to keep me moving forward. Not all steps in my life need to be perfect as long as they do the job and keep me moving.
- Deal with what you can control. There are many things we can do something about and so many we can’t. On the tennis court, I never know what my opponent will do, but I can make myself physically and mentally ready to make the most out of the next shot I take. I own that preparation, not what comes my way from my opponent.
I hope that some of these small daily strategies will help me better keep my body and mind in sync. I hope that they will help me to keep my focus on what ultimately matters – that I land the next step safely and that every step propels me forward in the right direction.
