Pressure

"Why do I freeze under pressure?" said the Stag
"It keeps you safe," said the Rat
"Where is the pressure?" said the Wren

The River didn't feel pressure

You're in the meeting. Everyone's looking at you. Your mind goes blank. You know what you wanted to say, but you can't access it. You freeze.

And you think: "What's wrong with me? Why can't I just perform?"

But freezing isn't a weakness. It's your nervous system trying to keep you safe. The Rat doesn't want you exposed, vulnerable, or potentially humiliated. So it shuts you down. Better to freeze than to risk being seen as inadequate.

The problem is—the pressure isn't usually what you think it is.

You think it's the meeting, the deadline, the decision, the audience. But most of the time, it's not external. It's internal. It's the story you're telling yourself about what will happen if you get it wrong.

The Wren asks: "Where is the pressure?"

Not "how do I handle pressure?" Not "how do I perform under pressure?" Just: where is it actually coming from?

When you locate it—when you examine whether the threat is real or imagined, whether it's in the situation or in your interpretation of it—something shifts.

The pressure loses its grip. Not because you've mastered it, but because you've seen it clearly.

The River doesn't feel pressure. Not because the River is invulnerable, but because pressure requires resistance. And the River doesn't resist.

Where is the pressure you're feeling right now?

Stories from the Vltava River.