I was brought up in a culture where worry runs deep.
In Greece, there is a prevalent angst and anxiety woven into the fabric of daily life — so much so that we have our famous worry beads, which people play with endlessly, turning them over and over in their hands as if the motion alone might disperse the tension inside. Growing up in that atmosphere, anxiety felt like the water I swam in. It was simply there.
Thank God, in my early years I found yoga and meditation. Those practices became my lifeline — pulling me up out of the undertow of worry and into something calmer, more connected, more spacious. And over time, I came to understand something that changed everything: worry is a habit. And like any bad habit, it can be addressed, worked with, and ultimately mastered.
A friend of mine once told me about her son, who had just returned from his first semester at college. She asked how he was doing. He looked at her and said, “Mom, I’m anxious all the time.”
She looked him in the eye and said, “Honey, you’ve got to get an inner life. Or life will be hell.”
She was right. When we are focused entirely on the physical, material world — on outcomes, on what others think, on what might go wrong — we will suffer from anxiety and worry. We will never feel calm. Calmness doesn’t come from the outside. It comes from a deeper place, where we meet our inner source. And getting there takes practice.
People who struggle with chronic anxiety have often built patterns of catastrophic thinking — neural pathways that automatically steer toward the worst possible outcome. Changing those pathways takes discipline, devotion, and regular practice. Sometimes, calmness feels so far from your reality that it sounds like a foreign language. But you can become fluent in it. And when you do, an entire world opens up.
It starts with the breath.
When I feel anxious, I can feel the adrenaline moving through my body — that tight, buzzing, restless energy — and I can’t stand it. Over the years I’ve developed different techniques to shift out of that state as quickly as possible. I never tell myself to stop worrying; that only makes it worse. Instead, I give myself a substitute for the worry — something to move toward rather than something to resist.
What I’m really doing is moving from the sympathetic nervous system — the fight-or-flight mode that puts our bodies on high alert — to the parasympathetic nervous system, which relaxes the body and invites breath and spaciousness back in. You can make this shift through slow, conscious breathing; through calming music; through intoning a mantra like hu or ohm; or simply by chanting vowels aloud. Your diaphragm releases. Oxygen returns to your brain. And suddenly, the simple solutions that anxiety had hidden from you begin to come back into view.
My spiritual teacher has a saying I come back to often: “Heaven is not a location — it’s a vibration that we all have access to 24-7.” When I remember that, something in me shifts. Calmness stops feeling like a distant destination and starts feeling like something I can step into right now, in this breath, in this moment.
If I were to wish one thing for every person I’ve ever spoken to, it would be this: to move past anxiety and worry and into their own deep calmness. Not because life becomes easier or more certain — it doesn’t. But because from that place of inner steadiness, you can meet whatever comes with wisdom, creativity, and even joy.
Worry is a product of the false self. Your true self only knows peace. And that true self is always there, waiting for you to remember it.
The Prayer
This prayer is for anyone caught in the loop of worry and anxiety — and ready to return to the deeper calm that is always waiting beneath it.
Dear Beloved,
Let me attune myself to the deeper calmness and peace, to the higher vibration that is present in the universe, the cosmos, and everything that moves.
I ask to know that beyond the storms, the hurricanes, and the turbulence of the sea, there is a stillness and a calmness that is always present.
Show me that so much of my anxiety and worry comes from my personality and the humanness of this physical world. May I please know that I am rooted in the spirit, and experience its presence.
I see my roots being grounded in this earth and connected in the heavens, so there is a connection between my earthly self and my divine self. Although I may not know it or feel it, I claim it, and I allow it to be present and transform any conditions that I have placed between my soul and my worldly self that have caused me worry and anxiety.
I feel an invisible presence of steadiness walking with me every step of the way, and I start to feel the energy of peace so deeply. I hear the voice of wisdom inside of me whispering words of safety, trust, and direction, and I allow myself to attune my being to this frequency of calmness.
Any time I bring worry upon myself, I remember that it’s a product of the false self, and my true self only knows peace, calm, and serenity. In the serenity, there are solutions, motivation, creativity, joy, and possibilities.
I do not give over to this worry. I do not give over to the anxiety and restlessness. I return to the invisible force inside of me that is enveloping me, embracing me, and cheering me on.
So be it!
The worry beads of my Greek childhood were trying to do something real — to move anxious energy through the body and out. Prayer, breath, and stillness do the same thing, only deeper. They don’t just disperse the worry. They take you to the place underneath it, where peace was always waiting.
You can kick the worry habit. It takes practice. It takes returning, again and again, to your breath and your inner source. But every time you do, you build the neural pathway of calm a little stronger — until one day, that becomes the language your body speaks most fluently.
Agapi Stassinopoulos is a best-selling author and speaker. This post is adapted from Chapter 32 of her book Speaking with Spirit: 52 Prayers to Guide, Inspire, and Uplift You (Harmony Books).