A weird thing happened the other day. As much as I like to take credit for my own personal growth, this one occurred a bit more organically.
There I was, at work, treading water in my baseline pool of anxiety. I subscribe to a host of nerve-inciting sources, all making modest contributions to my Pond o’ PanicTM. However, I’d like to make note that my distress tolerance has improved over recent years. As the goal is never to eliminate anxiety altogether, I maintain my obligatory portion. I’m just trying to do my civic duty.
Anyway, there I was…at work. I’m sitting at the computer, assembling some semblance of focus to get my digital tasks done. As I’m sitting there, making minimal progress, I began to notice something. I started to notice what I’m noticing.
“I started to notice what I’m noticing.”
All the Small Things
Anxiety is highly multi-faceted. For me, it often manifests as hyper-awareness and hyper-vigilance. My brain, with its finite processing power, has a tendency to overextend its capacity for attentiveness. Extraneous, mostly irrelevant stimuli from my environment is constantly knocking at the door of my consciousness, like a pesky salesman seeking my currency of attention in exchange for garbage. There is never a short supply of flitting distractions at work.
Okay, so I just described your average workplace. Of course, I could try to build a case that my workplace is particularly frenetic and fraught with distraction. But that’s not the point. Every workplace is chalk full of some degree of organized chaos.
Monitoring the immediate environment is largely about staying safe. It makes sense to be at minimum marginally aware of what’s going on around me, so I can respond to danger. Part of my issue is I become over-aware of the environment at the expense of physical and emotional peace, and the ability to focus on a specific task. What I’m describing here is sounding a lot like attention-deficit disorder (ADD). There’s a possibility some of this is present. I have never been formally assessed for this “disorder,” and I cast no judgment on those bearing the burden of an official diagnosis.
I’m no expert on ADD, and I’m sure what I experience in public environments has some overlap with this condition. Generally, with some effort, I can get myself into a productive state of focus. I’m doing it right now as I write right now. Hmm. Yeah, I’m going to leave that sentence there.
So, what’s the issue here? I’m not so much worried about not being able to get my work done. More so, I’m concerned with my quality of life as I go about completing these tasks. My average emotional state throughout the workday can make all the difference in how much capacity I possess at the end of the day for other things. You know, the things I more readily enjoy.
When I started taking inventory of where my attention was stacked up, I realized I was wasting a good portion of neural real estate. Whenever somebody walked by, I felt like I needed to glance after them. If an unusual sound pricked up my ears, I felt I had to visually investigate. If a nearby co-worker let out a sigh, I felt obligated to at least begin conjecturing about his or her emotional state.
I began discovering my proclivity to assign an undue importance factor to low-grade stimuli. In other words, I deemed benign environmental distractions as deserving of my immediate attention. The question is, ‘why?’
What is Even Going On
A few things have come to light for me. At first, I thought I was merely being polite by making myself available to any and all other humans entering my vicinity. Then, I realized how ridiculous this was. At work, I encounter the same co-workers numerous times throughout the day. I don’t need to acknowledge them each and every time we pass each other. I don’t get offended when others remain attentive to their work when I stroll by. If I need to get their attention, I will. And the same goes for others around me.
The weird part is, if you observed me when somebody walks by, you would presume I’m only marginally distracted. A fleeting glance while continuing to rap at my keyboard hardly constitutes a profound break in concentration. Again, it’s not so much what’s happening outside (completing the task) as it is what’s going on inside (spikes in anxiety).
As I sat at my desk the other day, I perceived a wandering consciousness. It was as if my body was permeable, unable to contain my sense of self. My awareness was like an unruly entity, meandering and trespassing into the minds of others, leaving me feeling disintegrated and unsettled. I was divided.
There’s a time and place for benevolence to spring forth in this ability to attune to and respond compassionately to the emotional distress of others. Empathy breeds connection and indeed soothes distress in the recipient. Every good gift can be used irresponsibly, but the general idea with empathy is that it serves the other person. The scenario I am describing at work is not this.
Despite my presupposition that I was being benevolent in my hyper-awareness of others, the deeper intent was actually self-centered.
Can’t Hide What’s Inside
One key element was that of FOMO (fear of missing out). I allowed my sentience to roam, untethered, not to aid others, but to ensure I was present for any potential social interaction. This is so very strange to acknowledge, since I am a devout introvert. As bizarre as it sounds, I am both repulsed by, and drawn to, socializing. If I sense I can get something from a social interaction, I’m all for it. Inducing laughter, getting positive attention (especially from women), and generally boosting my reputation as a cool guy—these events are highly attractive to me. Equal and opposite is the desire to avoid looking like a fool. Both polarities involve a special attunement to the environment to make sure I maximize my positive appeal while minimizing my negative appeal.
Ultimately, I become overly considerate of how I’m being perceived by others. Part of this possibly stems from my home-school upbringing. I naturally had less social involvement with peers, so I could have inflated the importance of each and every interaction. When there are fewer questions on the exam, each one is worth a greater percentage of the grade.
What Not to Do
Well, I’ve thoroughly outlined the thing I do that I don’t want to do. So, what happened on that fateful day at work to which I keep alluding? If you haven’t guessed already, I did not do that thing I don’t want to do. Conversely to my norm, I allowed myself to re-embody my own body and mind, reeling in my wayward awareness from each corner of the room. I know this will sound dangerously close to mystical mumbo jumbo, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I had a visceral sense of my very being returning to its rightful place. It really was like all my satellites of consciousness returned to base.
I felt at peace. I felt like me. It wasn’t like I became totally unaware of what transpired around me; it was that I surrendered the self-imposed responsibility to be involved. I could hear the footsteps passing behind me, but I didn’t have to look to see who it was. I was fully occupying my space, re-integrated and grounded. This proper calibration was very similar to what’s sometimes called a state of ‘flow’.
“I surrendered the self-imposed responsibility to be involved.”
According to a Google AI overview, a state of flow is a “positive mental state of being completely absorbed in an activity…characterized by intense focus, a sense of ecstasy, and a loss of self-consciousness.” This concept, initially described by psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, usually encompasses partaking in activities one enjoys. Yes, I enjoy aspects of my work, but the computer tasks I was doing at the time did not meet the criteria.
I have been swept up in a flow state while boogie boarding, skateboarding, paddle-boarding, tide-pooling, running, reading, and writing. So engrossed in the moment, I’ve settled into a contentedness and joy that’s hard to adequately recount with words. I cannot say this is a regular occurrence at work.
I still think what I experienced was a kind of ‘flow’. I’d argue it was at least under the umbrella of it. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what I call it. I was exhilarated to see how much my anxiety was soothed by this semi-intentional achievement of pseudo-flow. This is what I want to pursue more. I now have some tangible evidence that I can be fully in my own space, and others will be okay. I do not need to insert myself into every possible social situation to prove that I’m worthy of belonging. My identity and importance is independent from the perception (both good and bad) of others.
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I relate. Oh to remain in the moment while in my space.