Anxiety and Compassion: Learning to Work with Your Mind 🙌
Anxiety has a way of taking root in the unknown. The moment our brain senses uncertainty, it kicks into “protection mode,” imagining all the worst-case scenarios to help us prepare. But instead of helping us, it usually just paralyzes us.
Today, I want to share something about anxiety, and how, oddly enough, it's often our own compassion showing up in disguise. Anxiety has been a part of my journey, too—one that's driven me into this work of learning to befriend my own mind.
Anxiety has a way of taking root in the unknown. The moment our brain senses uncertainty, it kicks into “protection mode,” imagining all the worst-case scenarios to help us prepare. But instead of helping us, it usually just paralyzes us.
It's almost as if our brain clutches onto anxiety like a well-worn security blanket, thinking, “If I hold onto this, I'll stay safe.” The problem? That “blanket” doesn't actually keep us safe. It keeps us stuck.
This weekend, Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche helped me see anxiety in a new light. What's happening when we feel anxiety is actually compassion. Our mind wants to help, to comfort, but because it lacks clear direction, it reaches for the quick-fix—something to numb the discomfort. For some of us, it's reaching for a purchase, hiding in the pantry, a fight, or a glass of wine. But this well-meaning urge to “fix” can actually amplify the problem.
Listening to the Body's Early Warnings
One thing I've noticed—and maybe you have too—is that our body often knows anxiety is brewing before our brain even catches on. Maybe it's a quickening heart, a tightening in the chest, or that scatterbrained feeling.
Instead of checking out in that moment, what if we checked in?
For me, that shift came when I realized that anxiety shows up as my brain's way of protecting me—a relentless need to “know” an outcome in uncertain situations. Here's something fascinating: our brains are prediction machines, constantly scanning for answers to help us feel secure. They want to be “right” because accuracy kept our ancestors alive. But when we face ambiguity, our brains can spiral into worst-case scenarios, feeding anxiety instead of offering clarity.
Over the years, I've discovered tools that help me work with my mind rather than fight it. Some of these tools are exercises I teach to organizations and clients—great for building resilience—and others are quick resets for when you're on the go. One practice that's been especially invaluable lately? Pausing and connecting with curiosity and compassion.
Challenging the Anxious Brain
In the middle of a busy grocery store recently, I found myself “back in the attic” of my mind—everything felt dim and narrow, like I was on autopilot, barely noticing what I was putting in my cart.
With my scattered mind, I stopped, placed a hand over my heart, and gently rubbed it. This small, grounding gesture—taught to me by a mentor—sends a signal to the nervous system, telling it to settle down. Physical touch activates the vagus nerve, helping to calm the body, while reminding both heart and mind that it's safe to relax. Paired with a few slow, deep breaths, this act disrupts the anxiety loop just enough to create space for a shift in perspective.
After grounding myself, I posed a simple question to my brain: “What if it's better than I could ever imagine? What would that look like?” This question disrupts the anxious cycle by offering my mind something positive to consider. It's like saying to my brain, “I hear you, but let's also consider this.” This shift from “What if everything goes wrong?” to “What if things turn out beautifully?” opens up a mental space where anxiety can transform into curiosity and even hope.
The Power of Compassionate Curiosity
The beauty of this practice isn't that it erases anxiety—it transforms our relationship with it. By building a more compassionate, less reactive connection with our minds, we create space for other possibilities.
I often teach and speak on The BeAbove Leadership model called the 7 Levels of Effectiveness, which guides us from fear and frustration into courage, and ultimately, innovation. We can't expect ourselves to leap from fear to innovation in one go. But this practice offers a bridge: it allows us to step into courage, opening the door to countless possibilities and new ways to navigate what we once thought were impossible situations. Through this shift, even the most daunting moments can be reimagined, revealing unexpected paths forward.
Through this shift, even the most daunting moments can be reimagined, revealing unexpected paths forward.
Your Invitation to Pause, Connect, and Find Calm
As I step into the final stages of my journey to become a Master Certified Coach (MCC)—after thousands of hours coaching and training others—I'm thrilled to offer two discounted coaching sessions to new clients who are open to recording the sessions (audio only!) as part of my evaluation process and exam.
If you're looking to dig deeper, gain clarity, or simply reconnect with a sense of calm, I'd be honored to support you. This is for a very limited time and only available to a few individuals.
Have Questions? Simply reply to this email or contact her at 404-840-2238.
Alternatively - ready to dig in?!? Grab your spot here!
AND if you're searching for a supportive space to navigate this season with curiosity and clarity, join me for our free Calm & Connect sessions. This week, our session time has shifted to 10am ET (from 11am ET), and I'd LOVE for you to join us. Together, we'll practice grounding ourselves, connecting with compassion, and finding clarity amid the chaos.
Wishing you ease, curiosity, and peace, wherever you are.
P.S. You have permission to take a pause, just like you would offer to someone else in need. Let's give that gift to ourselves, too.
A July 4th Miracle: How we Survived a Hit & Run in the Colorado Mountains
I knew that if I left my body, it might take time to return. So I refused.
And instead of disengaging, and disassociating from what had just unfolded, (and can be an understandable reaction ), I asked that we turn off the audiobook, and all other “distractions” so that I could actually be with the immensity of the moment. And as I continued to drive our nearly totaled car until we could find cell service, I did what I knew was critical: I focused on my breath, feeling my feet on the pedals, and feeling my hands on the steering wheel. I had to be fully present if we were going to make it another hour to an area of cell service, to call the cops and report what had just unfolded…
It was scary; it was shocking. On a bridge, on Highway 131 in the mountains of Colorado, he could not be avoided. Speeding around a bend, he swerved right into our lane, as though heading straight for us. Transpiring in seconds, I slowed as smoothly as possible, given the motorcyclist behind us, and veered to the right, conscious not to hit bridge’s railing.
Somehow, by the grace of an incredible miracle, instead of a head-on collision, he slammed into my driver’s side before speeding off. Though the car sustained substantial physical damage, we walked away physically unharmed, extraordinarily grateful for our lives, and the life of the motorcyclist’s behind us.
While our bodies suffered no physical damage, it’s critical to acknowledge that such an incident can wreak havoc on the physical and emotional body. In times of danger, the brain shoots out extreme dosages of adrenaline, cortisol, and other endorphins that can continue to flood the system for days.
Whether speaking to incidental trauma or trauma that can arise from long term events, including CoVid, trauma can inflict perpetual distress on the body and to the brain if not properly attended to: if one does not adequately permit themselves to feel “what is.” Many fear that in granting themselves permission to feel all related sensations and emotions, they will be overwhelmed and unable to cope. So instead, the reflex is to push aside, minimize, and even deny our feelings.
However, as we do that, there is a consequence to pay. So much neuro-based research is uncovering just how much damage it can cause, long term.*
Instead, what is requisite is that we be with our experience: not the story we make up, but rather the facts and the physical sensations present. We acknowledge all facets. And while I am a massive proponent of reframing situations, seeing the gift (and in this situation, I found many) that, however, does not mean that we don’t acknowledge what else is present.
A process I neglected the first 30 years of my life, I carried residual trauma from a hit & crash at 18 (my car flipped 3 times) and other extra-ordinary life events. Now it is non-negotiable.
I get to spend my days holding space for and facilitating incredible life and leadership transformation. However, one of the biggest lessons I have learned is that if I do not hold space for the trauma, heartbreak, or crazy life events, there is no way I can fully be there for clients — never mind encourage and enable them to do the same for themselves.
The initial resistance can be that it feels gratuitous, selfish, unnecessary, or even daunting, but the fact is, it is requisite. It is possible to be grateful and to process the trauma. We are complex human beings with complex systems, and the two are not mutually exclusive.
Only this week, a client finally acknowledged the impact CoVid has had on his life, family, and business. In an effort to “stay positive,” and pretend like business was normal, unsuspecting tension built up both in his body and mind. However, in the process of acknowledging himself, to be with what is, tension melted, insight and new awareness and possibilities arose.
The pure act of acknowledging, and the radical permission to be with it all, is one of the most significant, healing gifts we can give ourselves, and ultimately those with whom we interact.
So, I emphatically request, if you are ever in a like-and-kind situation, or experience an extra-ordinary life event, please do not disengage from your body. It can take years to return. Allow yourself to process, to be with it. I certainly recommend a professional, but at the very least — rather than the story of what happened, let yourself be with whatever sensations are in your body without making them wrong. Don’t push them away; rather acknowledge them as if they were a guest. Know that they will leave if you let them pass through.
And please. Don’t ever drink and drive.
To watch the Video which adds another level and shares how Meditation played a huge part in saving our lives, click here:
*To learn more, The Body Keeps Score by Bessel A. van der Kolk and The Body Bears the Burden by Robert Scaer are great resources