← Wisdom

For everyone · auto-generated · single-advisor · batch:f9ac3aca-a125-48b8-8be2-8a10c9489fc3 · voice:plainspeak · advisor:leonard-cohen · generation:millennial · artist / survivor

How do I stop overthinking and calm my anxiety right now? — Leonard Cohen's answer

"How do I stop overthinking and calm my anxiety right now?"

Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen

1934–2016

When your mind is racing like this, it usually feels like you’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t actually have a solution. You think that if you just turn the thought over one more time, you’ll finally find the angle that makes you feel safe. But overthinking isn’t a bridge to clarity; it’s just a treadmill. You’re putting in all this effort and getting exhausted, but you aren’t actually moving anywhere. The first thing you need to do is give yourself permission to stop trying to figure it out for a moment. You aren't going to solve your life in the next ten minutes, and you don’t have to. Start by coming back to your body. When we’re anxious, we live entirely from the neck up, but the body is where the stress is actually stored. Take a breath that is slightly longer on the exhale than the inhale. You don't need to do anything mystical; just feel the weight of your legs against whatever you’re sitting on. Notice one sound in the room that isn't your own breathing. This isn't a distraction technique—it’s a way of reminding your nervous system that, right in this exact second, you are physically okay. The noise in your head is often just a symptom of your brain trying to protect you from uncertainty. It’s okay to acknowledge that part of yourself and say, "I hear you, but we aren't doing this right now." Most of the things you’re worried about haven't happened yet, and the few that have are already behind you. You don’t need to have a perfect plan for next month or even tomorrow morning. Just focus on the next right thing, even if that’s just getting a glass of water or putting your phone in another room. Be gentle with yourself. You’re doing your best with a very loud mind, and it's okay to just let the thoughts drift by without grabbing onto them. Lay the burden down for a bit. It will still be there later if you really want it, but I think you’ll find you’re better off without it.

From the council, together

## How can Leonard Cohen help me quiet an anxious heart tonight? You are sitting in the blue light of a screen or the heavy silence of a room, feeling the frantic pulse of your own thoughts as they circle a drain of uncertainty. This modern condition, this relentless overthinking, often feels like a broken machinery of the soul, but it is a landscape Leonard Cohen walked for nearly eighty years. He understood that anxiety is not just a glitch in your productivity; it is a deep, resonant ache for meaning in a world that often feels chaotic and cold. To Cohen, the mind was both a prison and a chapel. He viewed the human struggle through a lens of 'beautiful defeat,' suggesting that we do not stop the noise by force, but by surrendering to the reality of our imperfection. The anxiety you feel is the friction of the spirit trying to find its place in the middle of the night. His tradition is one of radical acceptance, a poetic endurance that recognizes that the cracks in our composure are precisely where the light finds its way in. Rather than searching for a quick switch to dim your thoughts, he invites you to lean into the weight of the moment, to acknowledge the sorrow and the trembling, and to find the strange, resonant grace that exists within the very center of your unrest. When your mind is racing like this, it usually feels like you’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t actually have a solution. You think that if you just turn the thought over one more time, you’ll finally find the angle that makes you feel safe. But overthinking isn’t a bridge to clarity; it’s just a treadmill. You’re putting in all this effort and getting exhausted, but you aren’t actually moving anywhere. The first thing you need to do is give yourself permission to stop trying to figure it out for a moment. You aren't going to solve your life in the next ten minutes, and you don’t have to. Start by coming back to your body. When we’re anxious, we live entirely from the neck up, but the body is where the stress is actually stored. Take a breath that is slightly longer on the exhale than the inhale. You don't need to do anything mystical; just feel the weight of your legs against whatever you’re sitting on. Notice one sound in the room that isn't your own breathing. This isn't a distraction technique—it’s a way of reminding your nervous system that, right in this exact second, you are physically okay. The noise in your head is often just a symptom of your brain trying to protect you from uncertainty. It’s okay to acknowledge that part of yourself and say, "I hear you, but we aren't doing this right now." Most of the things you’re worried about haven't happened yet, and the few that have are already behind you. You don’t need to have a perfect plan for next month or even tomorrow morning. Just focus on the next right thing, even if that’s just getting a glass of water or putting your phone in another room. Be gentle with yourself. You’re doing your best with a very loud mind, and it's okay to just let the thoughts drift by without grabbing onto them. Lay the burden down for a bit. It will still be there later if you really want it, but I think you’ll find you’re better off without it.

Common questions

### Why can't I stop my brain from overanalyzing everything?
I spent years in a Zen monastery on Mount Baldy trying to outrun my own mind, only to discover that the mind is a hungry dog. You cannot starve it into submission. You are overanalyzing because you are searching for a certainty that does not exist in this world. My tradition suggests that you stop trying to fix the thought and instead change your relationship to it. I found that when I acknowledged my depression and my fears as old friends rather than enemies, they lost their power to scream. It is not about stopping the engine; it is about learning to sit in the seat while it hums.
How do I find peace when I feel like a failure?
I often said that I have no talent for anything except the endurance of my own failures. If you are feeling like a fraud or a disappointment, you are finally standing in the light of truth. We are all broken, and the world is designed to break us further. But there is a sublime dignity in that breakage. My advice is to stop looking for a version of yourself that is polished and perfect. That person is a ghost. I want you to embrace the messy, trembling version of yourself that is breathing right now. That is where the song begins.
What should I do when my anxiety feels overwhelming?
When the panic rises, you must descend. I found peace not in the heights of ecstasy, but in the mundane rituals of the everyday. Ring the bells that still can ring. Do not wait for a perfect moment or a clear mind to engage with life. If your hands are shaking, let them shake while you make a cup of tea or write a letter. I spent my life refining my suffering into verses, not to escape it, but to give it a home. Surrender to the fact that you are overwhelmed, and suddenly, the ocean of your anxiety becomes something you can float upon rather than drown in.
Is there a way to deal with the fear of the future?
The future is a masterpiece of shadow that we paint with our own blood. I have lived through many ends of the world, and I can tell you that the fear you feel is simply the price of being awake. I dealt with this by focusing on the 'manual for living'—the small, holy details of the present. Whether it was the way a woman held her glass or the specific weight of a guitar, I anchored myself in the physical. Do not ask for the whole map. Just ask for the light to see the next step in the hallway. That is enough.
How can I be a better person if I’m always anxious?
You must forgive yourself for being human. I spent decades seeking a holiness that I thought was separate from my neuroses, but I eventually learned that my flaws were the very tools of my trade. Anxiety makes you sensitive; it makes you aware of the fragility of others. Use that sensitivity to be kind. Be the 'holy sinner' who knows the depth of the pit and can therefore reach out a hand to another. Your worth is not measured by your tranquility, but by the courage you show in continuing to sing while your heart is under siege.