A Non-Anxious Presence

Anxiety is at epidemic proportions in our culture. There are lots of legitimate reasons to feel anxious: finances, insecurity about work, family issues, addictions, and a desire to belong, to name only a few. And people employ many approaches in their attempts to manage anxiety. In many ways our economic, political and religious climates actually promote anxiety: “You should be afraid and anxious, but come to me and I’ll take care of you – for a price, of course.”

We might say that our culture has bought into the Madison Avenue approach: there must be something that you can consume, something that comes from outside of yourself, (and I have it for sale), to make your situation better, or in religious language, to save you. The consistent problem with all of these approaches is that the “cure” costs so much in payment and dependency that you end up even more anxious than when you began. There is also an implied disclaimer in these “helpful products.” If you don’t get help from this, then there must be something fundamentally inadequate about you. (and by the way, I have something to sell you that will fix that problem, too.)

How have we come to place where every intervention increases rather than decreases anxiety? I think much of the problem is with some of our largely unexamined “core beliefs,” those beliefs that are so embedded in our understanding that it doesn’t occur to us to question them. Many of those “core beliefs” are summed up in the work of Rabbi (Family Therapist and Pastoral Counselor) Edwin Friedman,

Before his untimely death, Friedman was an eloquent spokesperson for a radically different way of being in the world. He talked about three temptations that separate a human being from a god, noting that we end up creating even deeper anxiety when we violate any of these. The three temptations are in the realms of knowledge, power, and death (God’s are considered to be omniscient, omnipotent, and eternal). Whenever we believe that we should be able to be all knowing, all powerful, or eternal, we sow the seeds for our own demise, and of the resultant anxiety. Many of us violate all three of these at once when we believe that given enough knowledge, power, and time, we should be able to fix anything.

The most dangerous “core belief” is tied up in the word “should.” If we believe that the world “should” work in a particular way, we delude ourselves. The “purveyors of essential knowledge” make lots of profit on these “shoulds.” If we have the right dietary knowledge, we’re led to believe that we can live longer. If we have the right parenting techniques, we will generate successful children. If we have the right car, clothing, perfume and deodorant, we will have a successful romantic life. If we have the right theology, then God will take care of us. The list is endless, and our urge to consume all these “right” answers is insatiable.

Eventually, we may discover that life is too complex and varied to “make sense” in the way we think it “should.” Apparently, life is fundamentally ambiguous; that is to say, incomplete pieces of the truth can be discovered on all sides of reality, even when those pieces appear to contradict one another.

Friedman goes on to identify one of the prime characteristics of maturity as the ability to remain non-anxious in the midst of an anxiety-laden system. He reminds us that we all grow up in systems (families) that probably contain more anxiety than necessary and we learn characteristic methods to try to reduce the anxiety. But because those approaches are predicated on false “core beliefs” about what is possible and healthy, they don’t work. Still, we tend to get more anxious believing that they “should” work.

So, is there a way to move from high anxiety to low anxiety – to be a less-anxious presence? Friedman addresses this question by identifying some more realistic core beliefs. For example, he believed that the primary goal in life is to become a mature self who is capable of entering into relationships without being in a perpetually reactive state. When productivity or perfection becomes the goal instead, anxiety naturally increases.

Another factor Friedman identifies has to do with whether you are doing your own “work” of individuation or if you are using your attempts to fix or save other people as a way to validate yourself. One of the unambiguous realities of life is that you can only do your own work. You can be in relationships – in fact that is preferred – but you just can’t take credit for the success or failure of anyone else.

One final thought – reactivity that is born of fear and anxiety is always destructive. So, it can be seen as an act of love to learn a less anxious way of being.

Jesus said, “God loves and accepts you, so don’t be afraid or anxious.” He might have said, you can’t earn your way into heaven, God has already prepared a place for you (whatever that means).

Finally, when it seems that nothing else is possible to ameliorate the situation, you can always breathe, remembering that the words for breath and spirit are the same in many languages.

Be not afraid – and love.

What do you think?

Wayne Gustafson
“Never place a period where God has placed a comma.” Gracie Allen
The United Church__of Christ