100 Books Like The Anxious Mind

C.S. Lewis is best known for his Narnia books, but the book of his that sticks with me the most is this one, a first-person contemporaneous account of the famed fiction writer’s mourning for his wife. He began a journal shortly after she died and stopped when he reached the end of the notebook and then published it.

When I read it, I was dealing with intense grief that I felt no one around me understood, and reading Lewis’ journal/memoir made me feel like someone living in the same headspace had reached out his hand to me. One of the early statements in the book struck such a chord with me that I remember it to this day, more than 30 years later: “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”

Anger is a seemingly recalcitrant emotion – hard to avoid and difficult to manage. De Ira is the Stoic philosopher Seneca’s attempt to show us otherwise. To Seneca, anger is a wicked emotion. Yet a life free both of the turmoil of anger and of the desire for vengeance that Seneca thought defined anger is possible, he argued. Not only does anger lead us to lash out at others, it corrodes us from the inside – in Seneca’s image, like vinegar stored in a clay pot. While I find Seneca’s conclusion that we should eliminate all anger hard to swallow, his description of the dangers of anger, both to ourselves and to others, never fails to impress.

Like many emotions, shame seems like a double-edged sword. Shame seems to notify us that we haven’t lived up to our own ideals – that we’re not the people we thought or hoped we were. But shame has, as Thomason carefully delineates, a dark side: Shame can lead us to withdraw from the world in order not to be seen, and too often shame is a precursor to self-destructive behaviors. Naked ultimately argues that we need shame despite these drawbacks. Thomason’s book is also among the very best of recent books to use philosophical tools to investigate social media; her discussion of online shaming should not be missed.

We live in a very interconnected world, and yet loneliness is rampant. How can that be? Gaffney’s Political Loneliness helps us see that today’s loneliness is the byproduct of our specific political moment. Modern political life, she argues, alienates us from one other and fosters anonymity while also priming us to value belonging and inclusion. Gaffney’s purpose is less to offer us advice about how we can overcome this ‘political loneliness’ on an individual level. Rather, her uncomfortable message is that, with respect to loneliness at least, the personal is indeed the political, and she warns us that many will find totalitarianism an appealing antidote to the loneliness endemic to contemporary life.

As we learn in another classic, Primed to Perform by Doshi and McGregor, play is the most motivating activity there is.

I read this book for the first time during a dark period early in my career – where I did not feel inspired, engagement nor fulfilled. This book provided me with the framework to find meaningful activities – those where I was both skilled yet challenged to improve. Those activities where I would lose myself – where time would stand still.

Better yet, this book, framework, and philosophy have better helped me coach others to find play, engagement, and meaning in their activities at work and in life. 

In my own book, The Buddha in the Classroom, I tell the story of my fortuitous and life-changing first encounter with this book, while in my first year of college. Foreshadowing my career as a teacher of eastern philosophy, it lit the fire of my ongoing interest in Zen and had a profound impact on my personal journey into meditation. I sensed that the ironic title held some precious secret. I would discover, within its pages, the magic that happens when we learn to lean into the unknown, rather than fight against it. Indeed, the search for assuredness in life only seems to perpetuate the angst that is at the root of all the anxiety that characterizes the human condition... at least for many of us! Through letting go, we become more free.

I stumbled upon this one because Trump had it on his desk—go figure. Tillich, a Christian philosopher, explains how fear and anxiety drive people to irrationality. It’s wild because the very ideas he discusses were twisted for Trump’s campaign.

But Tillich’s insights on how fear pushes us to lose our mind—and how to stay courageous when the world seems to have lost its grip—are pure gold. This book is as relevant as ever.

I love this book because it gave me a roadmap for navigating the conversations I used to dread, many of which involve ethics.

As a supervisor and leader, I’ve faced moments where my voice was shaky, my palms were sweaty (think “Mom’s spaghetti”), and my brain was frantically trying to script the “perfect” thing to say. Crucial Conversations reminded me that it’s not about perfect—it’s about being present, showing up, and having the conversation even when it is difficult.

This book highlights the importance of inviting different perspectives into tricky conversations. I’ve used its tools to prepare for and navigate tricky conversations in a collaborative way, focused on shared goals, mutual respect, and safety—even when emotions run high. It’s my “conversation courage” handbook.

This is a unique book in that it integrates the learnings from the great philosophies and religions with modern science to create a powerful story of how you and I can live a happy and a meaningful life.

The Author takes you on a great journey illuminating how our thinking and how our mind and body influence our beliefs and ways of being. He puts together a compelling new story that you can embrace to be on your Journey to Best Self. This book was so good that I have read it three times since I bought it.

“Bittersweet” is the best word I can use to describe Finding Audrey. The story is about a fourteen-year-old girl whose life is disrupted by an anxiety disorder. What I like so much about this book is that it’s not depressing. The story brings to light a serious problem with a lot of levity and charm. I can really empathize with Audrey during her trip back to sanity after being bullied out of school. I laughed a lot, teared up a little, and smiled as Audrey is set on a new path, thanks in part to a pretty sweet romantic connection. The romance was totally unexpected and unfolds very naturally. The author’s light tone on this serious subject reminds me of the sage advice from the wise and wonderful Mary Poppins: a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down.