Perturbed Perfectionists! Graham here.

It’s a Friday night. 

I have a meeting coming up, first thing Monday. A big, important meeting. So of course, this is the prism through which I will view my entire weekend. 

Yay! 

Here's what that looks like...

Weekend worrier

On Friday night, we meet friends for our allotted, two-households-only picnic. My worried thoughts are already kicking into gear.

'Should I do this, though? Will it tire me out too much for Monday?' 

On Saturday, I think about having a beer. A single beer. But I’m all in my head about it. 

'Will one beer on Saturday make me hungover for Monday? Even though that’s not a thing?'

On Sunday, I spend a couple of hours prepping for Monday’s meeting, the whole time worrying about diminishing returns. 

'Is it better to over-prepare, or to rest, so I’m fresh for tomorrow?'

It's exhausting.

I think in the past I’d have put all these worried thoughts down to simple anxiety. An anxious mind is a worried mind. But recently I’ve added another way of thinking about this particular phenomenon, and it’s something I’m finding useful.

The emptiness of anxiety

Truth be told, I’ve never really felt all that connected to the word ‘anxiety’, despite using it to describe myself and my experiences for years.

To me, the word ‘anxiety’ has always felt a little… empty? 

Like it’s a kind of non-explanation. A placeholder. A more technical way of saying: ‘I’m afraid, and I don’t know why.’ 

Of course, this emptiness can be useful. There are times when I’m able to see that all this fear is not in fact a sign of imminent danger, but something more like a habit, a dance my body has been learning the steps to, for most of my life. In these moments, the emptiness of anxiety can be a powerfully liberating thought.

But in other moments, that very same insight can be exasperating. ‘I know there’s nothing to be afraid of. But I’m still afraid. What am I supposed to do with that??’

The P word

I’ve been reading a new book - one of those books that as you read it, you think, ‘this might just change my life.’

It’s a book called The Way Out, by Alan Gordon, and it’s about chronic pain - something I’ve been wrestling with for years. This book is slowly but surely changing my whole experience of physical pain (something I might write more about at some point). But Gordon also has some really useful things to say, not just about pain, but about that other ‘P’ word. 

Pressure. 

For Gordon, the pressure we place on ourselves not only increases our sensitivity to physical pain, but to a general feeling of not being safe in the world, which in turn feeds our stress and anxiety. 

Looking back at my weekend of stressing about the Monday meeting, I can see how each one of my worried thoughts was adding to the overall sense of pressure. 

‘What if I’m too tired to function when the meeting starts? What if I’ve prepared too much or not enough?'

And the root of all this worry? One simple, highly-pressurised thought. ‘I have to get Monday’s meeting just right, or else!’

Gordon writes, “the underlying message behind all pressure thoughts is ‘I need to do this or else!’” And those two little words at the end - ‘or else!’ - can have such an outsized effect.

The irony is, we think pressure will keep us safe

Over the course of the weekend, each one of my worried thoughts was - in one sense - an attempt to keep me safe. 

If the underlying belief is ‘I have to get this meeting right, or else!’, then it makes sense that I would stress over every detail, to make sure I could meet that existential threat. 

But the more I buy into these worried thoughts, the more I ratchet up the pressure, which in turn reinforces that underlying belief: ‘I have to get this right!’ 

My attempts to be safe end up making me feel less safe.

Meta pressure

If you’ve been doing this dance for years, as I have, you’ll know there’s one more layer of pressure in the mix. Something I call ‘meta pressure’. 

You know, as it’s happening, that all this worry isn’t really helping. Perhaps you even know, at some level, that Monday’s meeting will probably go well enough, that it’s not really life or death. 

And yet, despite this knowledge, you can’t stop worrying. Which leads to meta-pressure thoughts: 

‘The more I worry about this, the more tired I’m going to be for Monday.’

Or even…

‘All this pointless worrying is going to ruin my life, and probably give me a heart attack.’

Meta pressure is the ability to feel pressure about how much pressure you’re feeling. To be honest, it’s kind of an impressive evolutionary feat. But it doesn’t feel very good.

Taking the pressure down (imperfectly)

The good news is, a little can go along way with this stuff. 

I don’t have to suddenly become a whole different person, the kind of person who doesn’t spend an entire weekend stressing about a Monday meeting. This is great, because the thought, ‘I have to become a whole different person, or else!’ just adds more pressure.

Alan Gordon says there are two steps we need to take, when dealing with high pressure thoughts. The first step is to notice them. To notice when we’re having a thought that has an in-built ‘or else!’ component.

The second step is to send our brains a message of safety, to balance out that high pressure thought. Something that conveys that, yes, things feel very high stakes in this moment, but that everything is going to be okay. 

And with each of these steps, the key is to accept we’re not going to do either one of them perfectly.

Step 1. Noticing high pressure thoughts 

Here’s the thing. You’re not going to notice every high pressure thought. 

Currently, I think I manage to notice one or two in the course of a day, which is probably about 1% of my daily quota. 

That’s okay. It still helps. 

Sometimes I catch these high pressure thoughts early, right when they’re first taking root. Other times I catch them well after the fact. I look back on a weekend of worrying and think, ‘ahhh, maybe a bit of high pressure thinking in the mix there?’

The key is to notice these thoughts without judgement, where possible

Notice how this approach has something in common with meta-pressure, those worrying-about-worrying-too-much thoughts. When I think to myself, ‘I shouldn’t be worrying so much’, in a sense I am already noticing my high pressure thoughts.

But there’s a key difference. Meta-pressure isn’t just awareness, it’s judgement (‘I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts.’) And that judgement just adds more pressure. 

What Gordon is suggesting is a different kind of noticing. It’s less judgemental. It’s more curious. 

‘Oh I’m doing the high pressure thinking thing again aren’t I? What effect is that having on my body right now?’

And again, I’m never going to do this perfectly. I’m not always able to access this judgement-free headspace. If I can do it even once or twice today, with just a little less judgement than usual, great.

Step 2. Sending messages of safety

The second step for responding to high pressure thoughts, Gordon says, is to send yourself a message of safety. 

You’ve probably heard this advice before. When you notice a high pressure thought, Gordon says, take a moment to offer yourself some words of encouragement. ‘No matter what happens at Monday’s meeting, it’s going to be okay.’

I personally find this step a little more challenging than Step 1. Because in those high pressure moments, especially after days of pressure-y thoughts, I don’t really think it’s going to be okay. 

But again, there's good news. Messages of safety don’t have to be perfect in order to be useful.

I’ve found that taking a moment to send myself a message of safety can help me feel less stressed, even if I’m not fully convinced that things will be okay. It’s more about the fact I’m taking that moment for myself - ten seconds to take a breath - than it is about completely believing the message.

‘Something will happen’

Mindfulness teacher Sharon Salzburg has a nice line here:

‘Something will happen.’

When you're on a plane that’s delayed, you think, ‘what if I miss my connection? Oh I’ll definitely miss my connection. What if there’s no free hotels? Oh there definitely won’t be any free hotels.’

Salzberg says, when she finds herself worrying in this way, she doesn’t try to figure it all out there and then - because you can’t solve a problem that doesn’t exist yet. She simply says to herself, ‘something will happen.’

What if I miss my flight and there’s no hotels? ‘Something will happen. I’ll sleep in the airport.’ 

What if I get a hotel but there are no cabs? ‘Something will happen. There’ll be a bus.’

Maybe it won’t all be perfect. But something will happen, and I don’t have to know what it is yet.

Surviving Monday

The dreaded Monday meeting finally arrives, and it goes just fine. It isn’t perfect, but it’s good enough. 

I of course now have a new ‘big, important meeting’ looming on the horizon. 

I start planning for that next meeting immediately, thinking about all the things that need to be done, feeling that familiar tension in my body. ‘There are even more things to prepare for this one, and I have to get them all just right’.

Then a quiet realisation:

‘Aha! The beginnings of a high pressure thought!’

Acknowledging this doesn’t suddenly take all the pressure off. It doesn’t wipe my to-do list clean. But it does bring a wry smile to my face. 

I do some simple planning. I write all the new tasks out, so I have it all laid out in front of me. And I take a moment to say to myself, ‘This feels like a lot! I’m tensing up just looking at it. But something will happen. It will get done, to the best of my ability.

‘Something will happen.’

What are your most common high pressure thoughts?

I'd love to hear what this issue sparked for you, if you care to share. Click the button to let me know.