Group meetings,Worship and battling Anxiety and other Mental Health concerns

Jay

Hey everyone, welcome back. I’m Jay, and I’m here as always with my wonderful co-host, Patience Jones. Today, we’re exploring something I think a lot of folks can relate to but maybe don’t always talk about, which is that weird mix of excitement and, well…nervousness, that comes up when we gather together to worship or meet in community. Patience, I know for me—even after all these years—it still sometimes hits me, you know? That twinge of unease right before stepping into a room full of people, even though they’re my community.

Patience Jones

Oh, yes, Jay. Honestly, I used to think I was the only one wrestling with that. There’s this part of me that craves connection, that sense of belonging and, I guess, being part of something larger. But then, right on cue, my stomach does a little somersault before walking into church, or even—gosh—even my yoga classes. It’s like... I’m excited and anxious all tangled up. And full disclosure, my mind still wanders to worst-case scenarios—will I have to speak in front of everyone? What if I forget someone’s name? It’s so human, isn’t it?

Jay

Exactly, it’s human. And you know, as someone who spent years studying how groups work—especially in both religious settings and out—I’ve learned that even though group worship is supposed to be uplifting, the social dynamics can make it unnerving. We’re tribal creatures, right? We gather for support, to find people who think like us, share our values. Yet, that same urge can trigger anxiety around fitting in or not wanting to stand out too much. For some, it’s even deeper—maybe a previous negative experience or social anxiety comes into play.

Patience Jones

Absolutely, Jay. And it shows up in little ways—the racing thoughts, maybe feeling your palms go a bit sweaty, or your breath getting shallow as you walk into the room. I see it in our mindfulness group sometimes. Folks come in, looking like they want to sink into the floor. And for me, being a Christian and loving my church family, I still get that, especially when we’re about to sing together or share prayer requests out loud. My mind does its little monkey mind routine—spinning with doubts and distractions. I always remind myself, this is just part of being present, not a failure to have anxiety. It’s more like a sign I care about the experience.

Jay

I like that, Patience. Reframing anxiety as a sign that you care. I gotta say, working in health auditing, I sat in so many professional meetings over the decades, but walking into a religious group...can actually feel more intimidating, if you believe that! I think it’s because so much feels at stake—our identity, our values. What do you do, when that old anxiety starts creeping in when you’re with your group?

Patience Jones

Well, first I notice it. I mean, I really try to just pause—even if just for half a breath—and notice what’s happening in my body. Sometimes I’ll literally wiggle my toes in my shoes. It’s grounding. If my mind’s spiraling, I tell myself, “Okay, that’s just the monkey mind, swinging around again.” I breathe, real slow, and look for someone else who looks a little nervous too—sometimes we can silently reassure each other, just with a nod or a tiny smile. And honestly, I remind myself that showing up is an act of courage and compassion, both for myself and for others.

Jay

Love that. Showing up itself is a big deal, even if you don’t have anything profound to say, or you don’t feel like you’re bringing your best self. And—okay, this might sound obvious, but I always used to think it was just a confidence problem, something to be “fixed.” Turns out, all the reading I’ve done points to anxiety being really common in group gatherings, especially in worship settings. Studies suggest it’s part of how our brains are wired for vigilance in social groups. And, honestly, even the NIH—National Institutes of Health—they do a lot of research on human health, including mental health, and there’s growing recognition that managing anxiety is as vital as managing our physical health.

Patience Jones

Definitely. Plus, I think there’s something beautifully paradoxical about group worship: it’s both safe and vulnerable at the same time. On the one hand, there’s collective support; on the other, there’s exposure—of voice, spirit, imperfections. Even if I’m leading meditation or guiding prayer, I sometimes get nervous, especially when the group size shifts or the mood is unpredictable. Last winter, I hosted a small prayer circle, just five of us, and my hands were shaking so badly I spilled chamomile tea all over the floor. We laughed, of course, which kind of broke the ice—but that vulnerability invited connection, more than if I had been perfectly calm. That’s what I try to remember.

Jay

You hit on something good there—how connection grows from vulnerability. Even a little embarrassment can bring people together. I mean, at the end of the day, most people in the room are feeling similar things. If you’re nervous at a meeting or worship gathering, just know, you’re in a room with more than a few folks managing that same flutter in their chests. Sometimes naming it—even just to yourself—can take some of the pressure off. It’s like saying, “Okay, I see you, anxiety, but you’re not running the show.”

Patience Jones

That’s so true. And if there’s anything I’d want listeners to take from today, it’s that being nervous in group worship—or really, any gathering you care about—doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re invested. And it’s perfectly normal. Every group brings together a mix of backgrounds, personalities, and stories, and that’s what makes the belonging matter in the first place. So next time your heart races before stepping in, maybe try a gentle breath, maybe smile at someone else who looks a bit unsure—and trust that you belong, flaws and all.

Jay

Amen to that. You don’t have to have it all together to show up, and sometimes that’s where the best group moments come from. I think that’s a good note to close on for today, don’t you?

Patience Jones

Absolutely, Jay. Thanks to everyone listening, and thanks, Jay, for being so open about your own journey with group anxiety. We’ll be back soon to talk more about community and what it means for our real, imperfect lives. Take care—and until next time, keep showing up, however you are.

Jay

Thanks, Patience. Bye everyone, take good care of yourselves! See you next time.