In the previous column we learned that when anxiety strikes, we can immediately interrupt the physiological response: smile, inhale deeply, unclench your jaw, and drop our shoulders. Then shift into slow, intentional breaths, anchoring our focus on their rhythm. This straightforward yet powerful adjustment activates the prefrontal cortex, disrupts the body’s stress response, and lifts us out of anxiety mode. Next, we step into the following phase.
Step 2: Refocus Attention
The focusing illusion highlights that when we give attention to a negative thought, we magnify its relevance, giving it the energy to sustain itself. As soon as our thoughts begin drifting into anxious territory, we want to divert our attention elsewhere as quickly as possible to prevent these feelings from taking root. This doesn’t mean we should suppress anxious thoughts, as that is counterproductive. When we redirect our focus, the anxious thought naturally loses its grip.
(It’s important to emphasize that diversion is not suppression. For instance, we wouldn’t say we’re suppressing thoughts of unicorns just because we’re not thinking about them; they’re simply irrelevant to us, so our attention is elsewhere. When action is required, we must give the situation proper thought and then take responsible steps. However, in instances where we simply need to have bitachon, the act of dwelling itself sends our mind the message that we lack trust.)
The Torah states, “The tree was good to eat and desirable to the eyes” (Bereshis 3:6). The Rambam writes, “As soon as [Adam] began to think about transgressing, he was swayed by his physical desire” (Rambam, Moreh Nevuchim 1:2). Anything beyond simply observing the thought and deciding to refocus attention fuels the negativity. Engaging in self-talk like, “I can’t believe I’m bothered by this,” or “What’s wrong with me?” is highly detrimental, as we’ll explore further in the next column.
The mind can focus on only one thought at a time. While any diversion can shift attention, gratitude is the most expansive and energizing state. As we’ve established, gratitude and joy are intrinsically linked. But gratitude is more than just an emotion—it triggers a neurochemical cascade. Its expression activates key neural pathways, releasing dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphins—our brain’s biochemical drivers of joy, bonding, and emotional resilience.
When we focus on what we are grateful for, we shift from an ego-oriented, taking mode to a soul-centered, giving mode. This transition moves us from a constrictive state to an expansive one. We recall that gratitude stems from humility, the recognition that what we have is abundant beyond imagination. Fear dissipates as we stop desperately seeking something to make us feel complete. Although this level may seem out of reach, expressing gratitude for the challenge itself strengthens our bitachon. Since everything is ultimately for the best, acknowledging that this situation serves our ultimate good—even if we can’t yet see it—reinforces the very foundation of trust.
The effect extends further because the brain operates in concert. The reticular activating system (RAS), located at the brain’s base, acts as a filter to prevent us from being overwhelmed by unnecessary stimuli. It prioritizes what we consider important, unveiling connections and opportunities that might otherwise go unnoticed. By focusing our attention on gratitude, we effectively tune our brains to identify cues in our environment that affirm our beliefs and align with this mindset.
Alternatively, whenever practical, we can divert our attention and energy to an enjoyable, harmless, or productive activity. We should avoid tasks that require intense concentration, as they drain our energy. Instead, we should focus on something that gently holds our attention. When we are genuinely interested in something, our minds become quiet, and intrusive thoughts begin to fade. This isn’t about forcing discipline; rather, calmness is a natural result of sustained attention.
Shlomo HaMelech writes, “Trust in the L-rd with all your heart and do not rely upon your own understanding” (Mishlei 3:5). Studies show that individuals who suffer from anxiety and depression tend to overthink and overanalyze situations. The ego convinces us that we can think our way into safety and security. But Hashem can do anything—we do not need to figure out how things will work out to know that they will work out. This is precisely what undermines bitachon, because if we rely on our own calculations, then we are not relying on Hashem.
Certainly, this is easier said than done.
The Gemara (Yoma 75a; Sanhedrin 100b; Sotah 42b) states, “If [there is] dread [or worry] in a man’s heart, let him quash it (yashchena).” Yashchena can be interpreted as suggesting that one should try to set aside or disregard worry by refocusing attention, an approach we have just discussed. An alternative translation of yashchena is “to speak about it,” indicating that verbalizing a concern can help alleviate it. Experience shows that, in most cases, anxious thoughts begin to resurface despite our best efforts to distract ourselves. Practically speaking, we recognize that we can’t always divert our focus, especially with the ego clamoring for attention. This brings us to Phase II.
Coming up in the next column, when simple distraction offers only momentary relief, we’ll pivot our approach—leaning into the anxiety itself, fully engaging with it rather than resisting. Research shows that deliberately immersing ourselves in uncomfortable emotions not only diminishes their intensity but also speeds their release.
To be continued
