On failure and not being afraid of it

I feel pretty confident saying that a lot of people who have panic attacks have issues with failure. Not that we all don't. But that there's often a dysfunctional relationship with failure -- some kind of fundamental inability to deal with failure without hurting ourselves or others -- lurking behind panic.

Which might make this New York Times piece, about the importance of failure from a philosophical perspective, pretty interesting. A snippet:

Failure is the sudden irruption of nothingness into the midst of existence. To experience failure is to start seeing the cracks in the fabric of being, and that’s precisely the moment when, properly digested, failure turns out to be a blessing in disguise. For it is this lurking, constant threat that should make us aware of the extraordinariness of our being: the miracle that we exist at all when there is no reason that we should. Knowing that gives us some dignity. 

In this role, failure also possesses a distinct therapeutic function. Most of us (the most self-aware or enlightened excepted) suffer chronically from a poor adjustment to existence; we compulsively fancy ourselves much more important than we are and behave as though the world exists only for our sake; in our worst moments, we place ourselves like infants at the center of everything and expect the rest of the universe to be always at our service. We insatiably devour other species, denude the planet of life and fill it with trash. Failure could be a medicine against such arrogance and hubris, as it often brings humility.

We shouldn't try to avoid failure. We should embrace it. It's our truest opportunity to learn.

Previously on PANIC!: "Perfectionism and anxiety."

The beneficial mental health effects of being in nature

It's no secret that spending time in the great outdoors can have calming, clarifying effects on the psyche. For those of us without a meditation practice, contemplating an alpine lake or a seaside sunset is probably the quickest path available to true stillness of mind. Anyone who's athletically inclined will tell you it's much more enjoyable to cycle or run through the woods or along the beach than it is to get your heart rate up on an exercycle or a treadmill or some other machine -- and from my perspective, when you're dealing with panic, the prospect of being outdoors typically creates far less anxiety than that of being in a crowded, noisy gym. (I actually have a piece in the most recent esperanza magazine about how I used mountain biking to get through a period of panic when I lived in Los Angeles; at the time, just the thought of entering a gym would've made my skin crawl with claustrophobia.)

Poets and painters have been communicating this truth for eons, but it's only recently that science has gotten in on the act. Despite its subjectivity-focused origins, today the field of ecopsychology is bringing hard evidence into our understanding of the effects of the natural world on mental health:

In the past few years, some ecopsychologists have made significant strides in adding scientific rigor to their field. What their research suggests so far is that even subtle interactions with nature provide a range of cognitive benefits, including elevated mood, enhanced memory, and decreased stress. Staring out a window at pretty scenery can significantly lower one’s heart rate, for example, and some studies even indicate that hospital windows with views of nature can facilitate healing. What’s more, nature provides measurably greater benefits than both manmade environments and simulations of nature. Research demonstrates that walking through the city can tax our attention, whereas a park restores our concentration and can even improve our performance on tests of memory.

The field is introducing new forms of therapy to the psychological toolkit:

Standing alone atop a modest mountain in rural Maine, Eric Adams looked out into the darkness all around him. Between the silhouettes of boulders and trees, slivers of yellow light wandered and winked — the eyes of wild animals. Fears began to crowd his mind, but he did not push them away. This was part of his therapy....
 
“I don’t have an office — all my meetings are outside regardless of the weather,” said Dennis Grannis-Phoenix, an ecotherapist in Bangor, Maine who began counseling Adams in 2004. Hiking, camping, kayaking — each therapeutic session centered on an outdoor activity. Grannis-Phoenix asked Adams to climb the mountain alone as an exercise in learning to face his fears and anxieties. Instead of rationalizing his fears, Grannis-Phoenix wanted Adams to embrace them — something both therapist and patient feel is easier to learn in nature than in an office.

A final note: This piece brings to mind an interesting recent article from the New York Times about what happened when a group of busy neuroscientists went camping "off the grid" for a week earlier this year. The bottom line: It worked.