Burnout
How to get back to the here and now: closing anxiety's pop-up windows
You’re sitting at your desk with a document in front of you. But in your head you’re already somewhere else: replaying yesterday’s argument, then working out what happens if your department gets cut, then remembering an awkward thing you said three years ago. One window opens another, like intrusive ads on a website. One simple move helps you get back to the here and now: instead of arguing with anxious thoughts, close them like pop-up windows and shift your attention to what you can see, hear and feel right now.
“Live in the moment” is good advice; it’s just not clear how to follow it. The brain is built to keep looking into the past and the future, and that’s normal. With burnout, the problem is different: anxious thoughts run nonstop and almost never bring new solutions. Below is a technique from my practice that gives your attention a concrete address.
Contents
The short answer: how to close anxiety's windows
How do you get back to the here and now when anxiety hits?
First, notice that you’re no longer here: “I’m in tomorrow’s meeting again.” Then close that window in your mind without discussing its contents. And immediately give your attention the present: touch the surface of the desk, take a sip of water and notice its temperature, name three colors around you to yourself. The thoughts will come back. Then close them again and go back to your senses again.
Pay attention to the order. Noticing comes first. It’s the hardest part: anxiety rarely announces itself; it just quietly carries you off. You can spend half an hour replaying a conversation before you realize what you’re doing. That’s why, in the first few days, the technique consists almost entirely of catching the moment “I’ve drifted off again.”
Pop-up windows: close them, don't fight them
Some psychologists say anxiety is simple to deal with: you just need to separate yourself from your thoughts. It sounds good, but how do you do it? I offer an image. Imagine your mind is a monitor. The picture on it is produced by the computer under the desk; the monitor only displays it. Thoughts also appear on their own, and you see them on the screen. It’s a metaphor, not a description of how the brain is built, but it helps you grasp the main point: a thought that shows up doesn’t have to be opened up.
Now imagine there’s a pile of pop-up windows on the monitor. Most of them are plain spam: thoughts about the past and grim forecasts about the future. Underneath is what really matters right now: the task in front of you, the person next to you, your body. When you notice anxiety picking up speed, you click the little X in your mind and close the window. Or you just drag it aside.
Remember how everyone learned to tune out banner ads on websites? At first a bright picture catches your eye, but when there’s never anything useful behind it, your eye starts skipping over it. With anxious thoughts, you’re aiming for something similar: not to destroy them, but to stop opening them every time. That’s an image too, not an exact mechanism, but it’s handy for practice.
An important detail: the goal isn’t to switch your thoughts off. The goal is to move them out of the center of your attention and make room for the present moment. If a topic really matters, it’s worth working through separately, pen in hand. I explain how in the article on writing your thoughts down.
Where to put your attention: the five senses
The past is over, and the future hasn’t happened yet. What connects us to the present moment is perception. That’s why, once you’ve closed a window, your attention needs somewhere to land; otherwise your brain will quickly open a new one.
Sight. Look around and name to yourself what you see: white wall, black rug, brown armchair, green leaf on the windowsill. You can look for objects of a single color.
Touch. Run your palm over the surface of the desk and notice its texture. You can do the same with the denim of your jeans, the leather cover of a planner or a warm mug.
Taste and temperature. Drink a glass of water mindfully. Is it cold or room temperature? How does it feel in your mouth, and how does the sip move on?
Smell. Tea, coffee, leather, the street after rain. A smell brings you back to the moment quickly if you deliberately pause on it.
Hearing. Listen to the sounds: the hum of the ventilation, cars outside, your own breathing. Don’t judge them; just list them.
Why does this help? Here’s how I explain it: attention handles one thing at a time, and while it’s busy with a sensation, there’s less of it left for replaying anxiety. There’s more on why we’re bad at doing two things at once in the article on the multitasking myth.
When you wash a cup, think about the cup
I really like this phrase, and I take it literally. I have a dishwasher at home, but I almost always wash my own dishes by hand. It’s my daily practice: while I wash, I remind myself that apart from the warm water and the movement of the sponge, I’m not thinking about anything.
This small ritual helps me not forget the technique itself. And when anxiety rolls in during some other situation, it’s easier to remember there’s a simple tool: look around and find something to rest your attention on. Choose one daily activity for yourself too, such as a shower, brushing your teeth or the walk to the bus stop, and make it your practice in being present.
What's known about this
The pop-up window technique is my own version, and it hasn’t been studied on its own. Shifting attention to sensations from your body and surroundings is widely used in psychological support: such techniques are often called grounding, and related ideas underlie mindfulness practices. But there are few direct studies of popular exercises like “5 things I can see.”
Full mindfulness meditation programs have been studied better. In a meta-analysis of 47 studies, they moderately reduced anxiety and depression, but were no better than other active methods. These are programs lasting several weeks, not a two-minute technique, so their results can’t be transferred directly. The conclusion is this: returning to the present moment is a reasonable form of first aid for anxious thoughts, but not a substitute for treatment.
The two-minute technique
If anxious thoughts won’t let go for more than a few minutes, try asking them one question: “What can I tell myself that’s new?” And to train your attention on the move, try the alphabet walk.
When you need help
See a psychologist if anxious thoughts take up most of your day, interfere with work and sleep, and the techniques help only for minutes. A psychologist can help you understand what keeps the anxiety going and find a method that fits. If your anxiety comes with attacks of a pounding heart, shortness of breath or fear of dying, it’s also worth seeing your family doctor. They will check for physical causes and, if needed, discuss medication.
If you have thoughts of death or self-harm, call 112 if you’re in immediate danger, or call the emotional support line at 116 123 (10:00–24:00). All contacts are collected on the emergency psychological care page.
Burnout test
Anxious thoughts that make it hard to concentrate often come with burnout. The test helps you look at anxiety together with sleep, fatigue and responsibility. It doesn’t give a diagnosis. Why the brain gets stuck on the bad stuff in the first place is covered on the page about negative thoughts, and other first-aid techniques are on the burnout page.
Frequently asked questions
What if a thought closes and then opens right back up?
Close it again. That’s normal, especially in the first few weeks. Every return to your senses is one practice rep. Over time, the windows open less often and closing them gets easier.
Isn't it important to think about the future?
It is. The technique doesn’t forbid planning. It separates planning, with a pen and concrete steps, from endlessly replaying the same worry, which gives you nothing new.
Can I do this around other people?
Yes, no one will notice. You can look at the colors around you, feel the desk with your palm or take a sip of water in a meeting, on public transportation or in a line.
