What’s your anti-anxiety ritual?
I’ve been thinking a lot about routines—and their more symbolic younger sibling, rituals.
Routines are sequences of actions, associated with practical purposes; rituals are more like acts of the mind, meant to achieve specific psychological effects. For instance, your morning routine might consist of making the bed before making your morning coffee, and then hopping into the shower; whereas your morning ritual might be to give thanks before taking that first sip of coffee. Ok, so the distinction is slight—there are more similarities than differences, but as you’ll see from the examples below, enough of a difference that it’s worth separating the two ideas.
According to research, rituals are one way to build a mental safety net for ourselves when the stress builds. Similarly, routines serve to decrease anxiety and increase our sense of control over our circumstances.
I knew this, yet “having no time” became an excuse for not setting and maintaining good routines. Similarly, the darndest thing is that I had so many more rituals in place as a teen and young adult than when I became “old enough” to take charge of my time.
Here are some of the most useful routines and rituals I used or still use, for a selection of scenarios that I found—and still find—anxiety-inducing.
Do note that the ideas listed are performed in the order in which they appear!
Pre-Social-Event Routines and Rituals
New people and new places frighten me. I’ve missed out on opportunities to travel because I couldn’t face the thought of navigating through a foreign airport, alone, and unable to read the signboards. The night before a major social event, especially if it’s taking place somewhere I’ve never been before, is torture.
Routine:
Research/Google the location: images of the location, random facts, reviews, you name it! The more information I collect, the “safer” I feel.
Research/Google the route I’m going to take to get to that location. Nowadays this is so easy with an app. In the bad old pre-mobile phone days I would literally write out the route, drawing arrows as I went…
Note the time I’d have to leave the house so I can get to the venue on time.
Imagine what I’m going to do when I get there. This is a key step, even if chances are, nothing will happen the way I envisioned it. It’s the process of imagination which helps me calm down I guess.
Pack my bag, using the list I generated in the previous step.
Right before I head out the door, do a check that I’ve everything I need.
Ritual:
Right before walking in the entrance, I take a deep breath and straighten my spine. I do the thing dancers teach: imagine a string connected to your spine and going out through the top of your skull, and then imagine that string being pulled, so that you stand taller and put your shoulders back.
Pre-Exam Routines and Rituals
Routine:
Note the start and end times.
Double check how long it will take me to travel to the exam venue.
Do the math and pinpoint when I need to leave the house so I can arrive at the venue on time, when I need to get up—then write these down somewhere prominent. (I know we can set digital reminders, but what if I forget to charge my phone?)
Test my pens, highlighters etc. Make sure my pencil case has everything I need.
Make sure my pencil case, student pass, dictionary, calculator etc. are in my bag.
Ritual:
I actually recited the Litany Against Fear from Dune when entering the exam hall! I always thought this was an embarrassing nerdy secret, so you have no idea how vindicated I felt when Forbes magazine published an article on why it works, and why famous people actually do this too!
Here is the Litany:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
Source: https://dune.fandom.com/wiki/Litany_Against_Fear
I religiously read the instructions on the cover booklet. Every. Single. Line. I’d probably seen those instructions a million times by this stage, but I did it anyway, because it calmed me down!
When You’re Stuck and No Ideas Are Coming (But You’ve Time to Brainstorm)
This set of suggestions is for when you’ve a deadline coming up, but the work is not immediately due—i.e. you’ve a couple of days or more to handle this task.
Ritual:
This time, I start with a little ritual: I frame what I’m trying to ideate or envision, i.e. the goal, in a sentence. For instance, (in my head) I might say something like, “I need two more paragraphs supporting the stance that model essays are actually bad for students.”
Then I tell my brain loudly and clearly: “Brain, work on it.”
Routine:
Then I take a shower. There’s something about taking a shower that gets ideas flowing. This phenomenon, apparently, is a thing which researchers have noticed and are looking into!
Or, I leave the physical space I was working in. I don’t have to go far, but I do need to cross some sort of symbolic boundary, e.g. heading through a door or two. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’m moving that triggers something in the brain, or whether it’s the same mechanic which leads to the “doorway effect” (where walking through a doorway causes the brain to forget), but it simply works.
When You’re Stuck and No Ideas Are Coming (But You Have to Do This Now Now Now)
This set of suggestions is for use during a timed session where you have to produce ideas—e.g. a project meeting, during a writing test, etc.
Ritual:
I look at the last thing I have written down, or the question, or a key instruction for the assignment, and tell my brain: “Brain, work on it.”
Routine:
Then I take a micro-break. If I’m stuck in my seat, e.g. in an exam scenario, I look up—no need to behave suspiciously, just pick a fixed point straight ahead or something in the room straight ahead, and concentrate on just looking at it. If it’s a project meeting or some other situation where time is limited but there’s a tiny bit of wiggle room, I might even move about the room.
Or, I grab a sheet of rough paper and just write whatever fragments of ideas I was thinking. Sometimes, it’s the sight of the idea written out that jolts me out of my analysis paralysis. If the situation is that I can’t think of anything, I make myself write down ideas anyway, no matter how improbable or cliched they might seem. Again, the trick is to give the eyes something to latch onto, so the brain can start working again.
Regardless, after I’ve done either of the two things above, I look at the clock, and tell myself I’m only going to spend x more minute(s) on this. And I stick to this self imposed time limit!
Finally, I circle the question, or instruction. Does this mean I will always have time to come back to sort out this question or part of the project? No, but the circling itself is my symbolic way of telling myself, I’m moving on and this issue will not matter to me anymore.
I’m going to end with a snapshot of my current night time and morning routines. You might think, aha! But mornings and nights are not anxiety-inducing situations. My insomnia respectfully disagrees!
Night Time Routine:
You’ll notice I’m not saying the usual things like no screen use x hours before bed, etc., because this is not realistic for me. Writing and suchlike tasks come easiest for me in the depth of night, so these suggestions to limit screen use, while they might work for others, only make me work at a time when it’s harder for me to get the same amount done.
Do something which makes me feel relaxed. This one is tricky—the key is to distinguish between what makes you relaxed, and what actually makes you excited. (Again, rest is not the same as play!) So, I might play video games before bed, but I wouldn’t be playing Overwatch or even Civ VI. Instead, I might select Unpacking, or Stardew Valley—sandbox type games which slow me down rather than get me worked up.
Get my water ready and leave it next to the bed.
Make the bed. Yup, I make the bed right before I go to sleep. I think it’s the action of creating a comfortable “nest” which signals to my brain that it can calm down now. It’s like when dogs circle on the spot in which they want to sleep. I swear I’ve not experienced one of those “feel like I’m falling right before I fall asleep” moments (these are called “hypnic jerks”) since I’ve done this.
Draw the curtains. This is mostly self defence against the sun.
Morning routine:
This one I find harder to keep to than the night time routine, because there’s more variation in the tasks needed to be done in the day.
Drink water once I get up.
The one rule I’m really trying to keep to is: not looking at any screens for an hour at least after getting up. “Work” is the main excuse to break this rule, but I keep telling myself, if it cannot wait an hour, it’s probably already all a mess and therefore the extra hour doesn’t matter. This is the one thing I really regret not implementing when I was still teaching in a school—why ruin your day with something that has already gone wrong and cannot be fixed at that hour anyway?
I think I’m starting to realise that whatever the routine or ritual, what’s key is that I personalise it and do things which work for me. And of course, not to fuss when I don’t keep to the routine all the time. It’s like having a staple food in the pantry—others may eat rice three meals a day, but if I just feel like having rice now and then, then I simply will have rice whenever I feel like it. What matters is that I keep some rice on hand, for when I really need it.
And who doesn’t need some good, hearty routines and rituals nowadays?
