Feeling Anxious? Try This.
A 3-Minute Writing Practice for When You're Too Activated to Journal
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For nearly eight years I’ve done most of my work at the intersection of faith and decision-making but you’ll likely never hear me say something like Let’s find God’s will for your life.
Instead I’ll simply say, “Let’s find your life.”
When we wake up to our life, our gifting, our heartbreak, our joy, and yes, our desire, a natural (supernatural?) outcome will be alignment. As we recover our life, we’re able to connect to the person who we actually are rather than a try-hard version of the person we think we ought to be. Being integrated and whole is the will of the Divine.
How do we find our life? One way is to notice the noise that distracts us from it.
Yesterday I sat down for a quick online interview for a local TV show. They wanted to know more about my Above + Below photo practice1 and I was glad to share about it. I took a shower an hour before the interview was supposed to start, got dressed and ready, then rushed downstairs to my computer and did the usual pre-interview check. While I waited for my segment to start, I noticed what was happening in my body.
I wasn’t nervous for the interview, exactly, but I could track the activation: the sweaty pits, the shallow breathing, the swirly spiky sensation in my chest. Intellectually I could tell you I wasn’t feeling nervous about the interview, and I wasn’t.
But my body told a different story.
In so many areas of life, our brains tell us everything is fine, that we are fine, that the circumstance is fine. But we can’t stop shaking our foot or our heart feels like it’s racing for “no reason” or we can’t sleep soundly at night (again).
When my somatic experience is incongruent with my narratives, I often turn to familiar practices for grounding. One of those practices is journaling, but when I’m feeling anxious, I have a hard time settling down to engage it.
I found a simple way to process my own anxiety without using a lot of words or ignoring the experience of my body. Here’s what it looks like (I’ve edited out some of the more personal bits, but you get the idea):
First, in a word or two, I write down one thing that is causing angst, distraction, frustration, excitement, or fear. Each word/phrase gets its own section on the page. If you can’t read my writing in the example above, here are some of the things that were causing me angst at that time:
A person I trusted: We have been fooled.
Teaching Next Week: I am under qualified and not ready.
A decision to try something new: I am over qualified and will not be known.
An offering we created: Will it sell?
The Kids: Will they be okay? (Always a question parents everywhere have)
My Writing Work: When will it be time?
Then, around each word I make a shape that mimics the bodily sensation each one thing invokes. The key is not to overthink it. In this example, notice the difference between the lines: a mix of swoopy curves, dots, sparks, and sharp angles.
You’ll also see I sometimes add a question or a statement around each shape, giving further context for myself. When I can’t find the words or feel too activated to take the time to write things out, this simple practice grounds me.
Emily, that can’t possibly make things better, can it?
I’m so glad you asked. It depends on what you mean by “better". I know how compelling it is to want to see Chip Gaines Demo Day level results. Tear out the cabinets and break down the walls! Let’s renovate this whole situation immediately.
We want big change and are convinced it takes big moves to get there. But most meaningful change happens through tiny moves, small shifts, and seed-sized action. Giving my anxieties, concerns, fears, and disappointments a visual shape takes less than five minutes and only helps by about five percent.
But five percent less anxiety is enough room to take a breath or two, to let a sliver of light in so I can see a little better. Five percent is something we can build on.
If you try this practice, I’d love to hear from you. Did it allow a little room for your soul to breathe? Were you able to access your life just a little bit more?
As always, I’m glad you’re here.
epf
One Last Thing
My book, The Next Right Thing, is a great companion for making simple, soulful decisions. It also makes a great high school or college graduation gift! And The Next Right Thing Guided Journal is the perfect tool for seasonal reflection to go along with it.
Last week I shared an essay over at Sarah Bessey’s Field Notes called The Stowaways. It’s a story I’ve never told until now and I’m grateful to her for hosting me.
You had me with the words..."too activated to journal"...so good! Thank you for sharing this practice with us! And thank you even more for showing us the example from your personal journal...incredibly vulnerable and helpful. This is such an excellent idea for when "somatic experience is incongruent with my narratives"...just LOVE that language! Thank you, Emily🥰
Emily, thanks for this. The next time anxiety makes her obnoxious, fearful appearance, I'm going to grab a pencil and bid her a quicker farewell.