What we’re driving at is that the things and situations about which we feel anxiety aren’t anchored in the present moment. If we feel apprehension and alarm about something in the here and now, we don’t refer to it as anxiety. Instead, we call it fear. When you think things are going terribly, horribly wrong, fear is what grips you. And, unlike anxiety, which strives to neutralize ambiguity and is only minimally useful in these days of more or less harmless threats, fear is generally pretty useful stuff.

If you hear shrieks and gunfire coming from the room at the end of the hall, you might decide to go the other way. If you’re at the beach and you see a big dorsal fin cutting through the waves, you might put off going for a swim. If unproductive people in your office are getting fired left and right, you might take special care to meet all your deadlines and complete all your tasks. In all these cases, you’re responding to something in the here and now in a way that might protect you from harm.

In addition to how you might respond to the threat of impending misfortune, there are still other ways you’re likely to respond to things actually going terribly, horribly wrong—to situations where bad things are actively happening to you. And as you might imagine, these behaviors, being even more grounded in the present than fear responses, are even less like anxiety. These vary from automatic behaviors that your body initiates without any thought—as happens when you jerk your hand away from something hot—to reactions that you do think about first, such as pulling your car to the side of the road after you’ve been in a collision. In any case, the fact that you’re reacting to some concrete event taking place in the present moment precludes your experience from being anxiety.

Now, just because you think there’s something around you that might harm you doesn’t mean there actually is something there for you to be afraid of. Just thinking that a threat is at hand is enough to make you feel fearful. But this conjured fear is still very unlike anxiety. It’s predicated on the assumption of a real threat in the present moment. If someone were to ask you, “What are you afraid is happening right now?” you could give them an answer. Anxiety isn’t like that; it needs to draw on the past or future to have any hold over you.

You can think of anxiety in the moment like a fish that’s been chucked onto dry land. To flourish, a fish needs water over its gills and supporting its body. Anxiety, likewise, needs the murky past or mysterious future to feed it and keep it going. Without their respective natural environments to sustain them, both the fish and anxiety will quickly wither and expire. Realizing this is a huge step toward breaking the stranglehold anxiety can have on your life. But how? Well, this is where our first ACT process comes in.

Game: Just a Minute

Props: A minute timer

Difficulty: Easy

Most of us feel, at least every so often, that time is getting away from us, that there just aren’t enough hours in the day. But just how long is an hour, really?—or a minute? This game can help you get a sense of how connected you are to the actual passing of time. If you find that you often feel hurried, it may be that you sense time passing more quickly than it really does. On the other hand, if your perception of time runs too slowly, you may find that you’re often late for things. Once you’ve played this game, you’ll have a good idea whether your internal clock runs fast or slow. If you have a history of trouble with anxiety, here’s a bet: we think your clock will run fast, speeding you through the game in anticipation of whatever comes next. Of course, that’s not necessarily so, but the odds are definitely with us. At the end of the game, you’ll also know what it feels like to be very attentive and focused for just one minute, which, repeated over and over again, is all a mindfulness practice really is.

1. Sit comfortably in a chair or on a cushion in a quiet part of your home or in some peaceful setting at a time when you’re not likely to be disturbed.
2. Loosen anything you’re wearing that might restrict your breathing, such as your collar or belt. Get comfortable. If you’re wearing a watch, take it off, but keep it close at hand.
3. Take a few deep breaths. Once you do, take a look at your watch. As the sweep hand passes the twelve, set your watch aside or turn it over in your hand so that you can’t see the face.
4. Now just sit comfortably and breathe normally until sense that one minute has elapsed. (Oh, and don’t cheat by counting the seconds. It may be tempting, but it defeats the purpose of the game.)
5. Check your watch, and note how much time has passed.

How did it go? Do you feel as if you have a good sense of time, or were you surprised by how long or short your minute actually was? Remember that your purpose here is to develop an intentional and attentive relationship with the present moment, and becoming sensitive to the rate at which time passes is a good place to start. Think about what the results of this exercise might mean for you. Also, you may want to make a note of where your thoughts wandered while you were waiting for the minute to go by. After you’ve practiced the techniques for a while, you might want to play this game again to see if your perception of time has become more accurate.

excerpt from Things Might Go Terribly, Horribly Wrong: A Guide to Life Liberated from Anxiety by Kelly G. Wilson Ph.D., Troy DuFrene MA