Why Are We Always Anxious? The Buddha's Three-Step Answer to a Restless Mind
How does your mind feel right now?
Maybe something upset you earlier today, and it's still nagging at you tonight.
Or maybe you were perfectly calm a moment ago, and then you scrolled through social media and suddenly felt uneasy for no clear reason.
An ad about health or money flashes across your screen, and your mind starts spinning: Am I okay? What if I get sick? What if I run out of money?
Before you know it, you're lost in a spiral of worry about things that haven't even happened.
We worry about a future that hasn't arrived yet, and in doing so, we lose the present moment entirely.
If your mind feels anxious right now, as you're reading this, try simply noticing it: Ah, there's anxiety here.
You don't need to push it away or fight it.
Just watch it.
| Photo by the author |
I'm practicing this same thing right now, as I write.
This morning I heard some troubling news, and waves of anxiety kept rising in me.
I'd already written most of this piece a few days ago, but after hearing that news, I wanted to add a few honest lines about how I was actually responding to my own anxious mind in real time.
Every time the anxiety rose today, I tried to simply notice it:
Ah, here comes the anxiety.
It wasn't easy.
But instead of resisting it or forcing it away, I kept practicing that same quiet noticing.
And slowly, a sense of ease returned.
I could do this because a great teacher figured this out long before me.
About 2,600 years ago, the Buddha offered a remarkably practical way to steady a mind shaken by fear and anxiety.
"This Mind Always Trembles With Fear": The Root of Our Restlessness
In the Subrahma Sutta, an early Buddhist text from the Saṃyutta Nikāya, a celestial being named Subrahma comes to the Buddha and says:
"This mind always trembles with fear. This mind is always restless."
Surprising, isn't it? Even a god in the heavenly realms was gripped by deep mental suffering and fear.
Subrahma had lived surrounded by thousands of celestial nymphs, enjoying every heavenly pleasure imaginable.
Then one day, he watched his companions — the very beings he'd shared his joy with — suddenly reach the end of their lifespans and fall into miserable states.
In that instant, he realized his own glory, which had felt permanent, would also fade.
He understood he had no power to stop this vast, sweeping current or the fear of death that came with it.
The happiness he'd taken for granted shattered in a single moment.
He came face to face with the truth that a long life, high status, and great pleasure are not permanent, no matter how solid they seem.
Overwhelmed with fear, he asked the Buddha:
"If there is a way to escape this fear — a fear of hardships not yet come, or hardships already here — please, tell me what it is."
That confession comes from a celestial being thousands of years in the past, yet it sounds remarkably like our own voice today.
Even with a good job, a stable home, and enough money that others might envy us, we still feel that nagging unease: this happiness could shatter at any moment.
The Buddha traced this fear and restlessness to two causes:
clinging to the idea of a permanent self, and being constantly pulled around by external stimulation.
We try to hold onto things that are always changing as if they were fixed.
We try to control a world that was never ours to control. And from that effort, all suffering grows.
An Inner Compass for Breaking the Cycle of Suffering
The Buddha's answer to Subrahma was short, but precise:
"Apart from awakening and practice,
apart from guarding the senses,
apart from letting go of everything,
I see no safety for living beings."
Notice what the Buddha didn't say. He didn't tell Subrahma to change his circumstances. He pointed him inward instead.
So how does this actually work in daily life?
Say you're on your morning commute, scrolling your phone on the subway or bus, and out of nowhere, anxiety creeps in.
Instead of digging deeper into the news feed (guarding the senses), you quietly notice: my mind feels anxious right now (practice).
And instead of thinking I need to get rid of this feeling, you let go of even that urge (letting go).
These three paths the Buddha described can show up in a moment as brief as that.
The source of suffering isn't out there in the world.
It's in our own attachment. Let's look at each of these three paths a little more closely.
The Buddha's Three-Step Path Out of Anxiety
These three prescriptions aren't abstract doctrine sitting in an old text.
They're a surprisingly precise training method for steadying the scattered, distracted lives we live today.
None of these are rigid rules. They can flex and adapt depending on your state of mind and your situation.
1. The mind gets stronger the more you train it
The Buddha's first prescription was practice on the path to awakening.
Many people assume "practice" is something reserved for monks or spiritual specialists. But at its core, practice simply means training your mind.
Just as muscles weaken without exercise, the mind grows fragile without care. It gets shaken by the smallest things.
Meditation works.
So does simply pausing to notice your breath.
Quietly reflecting on your day, or just stopping for a moment to check in with your own mind — these are all forms of practice too.
It also helps enormously to stop believing every thought you have.
I remember reading Björn Natthiko Lindeblad's book I May Be Wrong and coming across that exact sentence:
"I may be wrong."
At first, I genuinely didn't understand what it meant. But it stuck with me, and it's helped me navigate anxious or angry moments with a bit more wisdom ever since.
Any method works. What matters isn't finding the perfect technique — it's carving out small, consistent space in your life to take care of your mind.
2. Don't Be Pulled Around By External Stimuli
The first step to calming a restless mind is guarding your senses — making sure outside stimulation doesn't flood in unchecked.
For those of us living today, this is basically digital detox.
Endless phone notifications and provocative videos constantly stir up our eyes and ears, pushing our minds into overdrive and fueling anxiety.
Guarding your senses means this:
when you see or hear something, you don't get swept away by it. You take it in as it is, nothing more.
I recently discovered exactly how defenseless we are against outside stimulation.
I started using prayer beads to count my thoughts, one by one, and it was humbling — even a little painful — to see how powerlessly my mind gets pulled around by whatever comes through my eyes and ears.
The thoughts and emotions that followed moved faster than I could ever control.
Early Buddhist texts repeat this instruction constantly:
establish mindfulness, and guard the senses.
Counting my thoughts helped me finally understand why the Buddha emphasized this so much.
Since then, I've been practicing mindfulness and awareness, trying to simply notice: ah, anxiety is arising.
One line from the scriptures has stayed with me:
"When seeing, just see. When hearing, just hear."
I return to this every day.
When an emotion arises, know that it's arising.
When you see, know that you're seeing.
When you hear, know that you're hearing.
Just notice — nothing more.
Say a friend says something hurtful, and anger flares up in you.
Instead of getting swept up in the words, or blaming yourself for feeling angry, or trying to push the anger away, just notice: ah, anger has arisen.
This isn't easy, not even close.
But I believe there's a real difference between a life that knows this method exists and practices it, even imperfectly, and a life that doesn't.
So even though it's difficult, I'd genuinely recommend trying it, with awareness and patience.
As your ability to notice your own mind deepens, you slowly start to see a little distance between yourself and your emotions.
And once you see that distance, you start to see something else too:
anxiety isn't you.
| Photo by the author |
Through this practice of watching the mind instead of pushing the anxiety away, I've come to understand something important.
Anxiety is just a passing phenomenon.
It shows up, it stays a while, and it leaves. It's nothing solid enough to hold onto.
Since anxiety has no fixed substance to grab, there's nothing to control.
All you can really do is watch the mind that's doing the noticing.
3. Let go of the attachment that feeds your anxiety
The Buddha's final prescription was to let go of everything.
This doesn't mean abandoning your family or your job.
It means releasing your grip on the mind's compulsion to control everything exactly the way you want it.
Thoughts like this has to succeed or I can't afford to fail create an attachment to the world bending to your will. And that attachment comes back to you as sharp, relentless anxiety.
Every single thing that happens does so because countless causes and conditions came together.
We can't fully know the outcome, and we certainly can't control it.
Real peace of mind comes when we accept the wisdom of simply "not knowing."
The Buddha put it this way:
the body, feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness are not "I," not "mine," not a self. Let them go.
Attachment grows out of a firm belief in a fixed "self" and the demand that the world conform to what that self wants.
At first, the idea that there's no fixed "I" might sound confusing. I felt the same way.
But the more I studied this teaching, the more I began to understand:
what we call "I" is really just an ever-changing flow of conditions.
I suspect the deeper that understanding grows, the more attachment naturally loosens its grip.
| Photo by the author |
None of us living ordinary lives can let go of everything the way a monk who has renounced the world does. Caring for family, planning for the future — these are simply part of living.
Even the Buddha acknowledged that monastics and lay people live different lives.
But it's worth quietly checking in with yourself sometimes: Am I gripping too tightly? Am I creating my own suffering by trying to control every outcome exactly as I want it?
That quiet check-in might be exactly where the Buddha's wise "letting go" begins.
Why Did the Buddha Call This "Safety"?
The Buddha said that outside these three practices, he saw no safety for any living being.
But safety here doesn't mean a life where nothing ever goes wrong.
The world never stops changing. Unexpected loss and hardship will always find their way to us.
We can't bend the world to our will. But we absolutely can train how our mind responds to it.
Maybe It's Not About Eliminating Anxiety — It's About Meeting It Differently
Anxiety rises and falls naturally. It's simply what minds do.
Even a celestial being like Subrahma felt fear. And we, living our lives today, get shaken too, worrying about a future we can't see.
But like everything else, anxiety only arises because certain conditions came together.
The moment we notice that — ah, anxiety has arisen — and choose not to get swept away by it, we become a little less shaken.
There's a well-known exchange in Zen Buddhism between Bodhidharma and his student Huike.
"Master, my mind is not at peace."
"Bring me this mind, and I will put it at peace for you."
"I've searched for it, but I cannot find it."
"Then I have already put your mind at peace."
| Photo by the author |
Anxiety has no solid essence. There's nothing to fight, nothing to force away, and no reason to believe it defines who you are.
Don't let outside stimulation drag you around.
Loosen your grip on what you're clinging to.
And take a little time, every day, to care for your own mind. I think that's what really matters.
This small practice won't solve every problem in your life overnight.
But how you look at anxiety can genuinely change.
And maybe that's exactly where the real, inner safety the Buddha spoke of begins — right at the moment everything starts to shift.
Deepen Your Inside
If these reflections offered you a brief moment of comfort amidst the noise, consider exploring these other gentle paths toward inner clarity.
They are crafted as quiet companions to help untangle the knot of daily anxieties, guiding you toward a more grounded, genuinely peaceful, and joyful way of living.
[Is That Anger Really “Me”? What Buddhism Means by Non-Self]
[Thoughts Won't Stop? Here's What's Really Happening in Your Mind]
[Who Am I? Buddhist Insights on Ego, Identity, and Anxiety: Beyond Modern Psychology]
A Companion for Your Journey
To help you experience this mindfulness more deeply, I highly recommend watching the video below by Venerable Beopsang.
His profound insights will help today’s message settle comfortably into your heart.
"May all living beings be healthy, happy, and prosperous. May they be safe, secure, and free from all dangers and enemies."
© Now-Waker. All rights reserved.
Feel free to share with attribution. No commercial use or modifications.