Dancing with anxiety

One of the flavours of my life, since I was little, has been anxiety – worry, fear, uncertainty, concern, nerves, doubt, all of these have been very strong, consistent experiences for me over the course of my life.

I’ve always had a very strong physical constitution. I didn’t get sick much as a kid and I’ve never suffered any severe digestive problems, heart problems or otherwise. But while I’ve almost always felt strong in body, I definitely haven’t felt strong in mind. Feelings and thoughts have historically been something I was deeply afraid of that could totally consume me.

Certain life experiences forced me to confront my fear and anxiety, and I’ve spent the last decade slowly unpicking and exploring them. And when I say fear and anxiety, I even had fear and anxiety about having fear and anxiety. That’s how strong they were! Maybe you can relate?

Through daily meditation, therapy, spiritual teachers, journalling, taking care of my health and many other modalities, I’ve gradually evolved my relationship to anxiety. These practices have meant that overall there are less things that trigger anxiety in me, and when I am triggered, the anxiety response is no longer all-consuming. I do still experience it from time to time. In those moments however, I’ve observed a remarkable shift – an ability to be with the anxiety. To simultaneously be feeling all the yucky sensations and to still, concurrently, be able to feel a stillness, a stability and a steadiness inside as well. It no longer consumes me entirely, and even when it gets strong, I can maintain a level of clarity and awareness of what is taking place.

The best way I could liken it is with the analogy of dancing. I’m on the dancefloor with all of my emotions – the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ – and everyone’s rotating around the room, swapping partners from time to time – and everyone wants to dance with me, of course. Sometimes, it’s anxiety’s turn. A decade ago, they would have always been the lead dancer. And whether I was into it or not, they’d be the one directing my movements, forcing my limbs, controlling the entire dance. I’d be swept away, with no choice in what direction things took.

Fast forward to today, and I’m still on the dance floor. I still have to dance with anxiety sometimes. But now, instead of anxiety being the lead, I’m in charge. We still dip and swerve and cha-cha, but it doesn’t sweep me off my feet and the dance doesn’t last as long. And amidst it all, I can still enjoy the fact that I’m dancing – because if I’m dancing, it means I’m living. We all dance through different stories, experiences, and feelings. And though there are some we’d rather dance with over others, life requires that we dance with all of it.

Learning to develop the capacity to dance with every experience, not just the pleasurable or comfortable ones, is the meaning of spiritual growth and evolution. This is also where suffering ends. We think that in order to get rid of suffering we have to get rid of negative emotions and only experience the positive ones. But as Pema Chodron tells us of the Buddhist teachings: “Thinking that we can find some lasting pleasure and avoid pain is what in Buddhism is called samsara, a hopeless cycle that goes round and round endlessly and causes us to suffer greatly.” It’s not the feelings themselves that cause suffering, but our relationship to them. When we resist our feelings, we create tension and friction, and this leads to suffering. That’s not to say that life’s challenges aren’t real or that we should just grin and bear it, but when we can find peace and acceptance amidst the chaos and learn to dance with it instead of running from it, there is relief and through that shines joy, resilience and creativity.

Meditation has undoubtedly been the foundation for me to learn how to re-frame my relationship to hard feelings and remain steady in turbulent times. Once I committed to a twice-daily practice, I gradually strengthened my connection to the part of me that is always steady, calm and grounded. That is the part of me that cannot be touched by the rumblings of anxiety, the chaos of life and I can sink back into this part of myself, and know that it is my very own infinite source of strength, inner wisdom and resilience – and indeed it is my very own Self.

Vedic meditation offers us this simple and profound ability to return to that place within. Even if we aren’t aware of it, each time we sit to meditate, we are orienting ourselves back towards the the source of our truth, the aspect of ourselves that can hold us steady and lead the dance, even with the trickiest of dance partners.