I think it takes a lot of courage to post this on the forum—courage that has the potential to have an impact how EAs approach (their) mental health and fully account for the consequences of pushing past personal boundaries in the name of impact. The Anxiety Trap you describe feels very familiar, and your reflections resonate with me. I’d love to add a few thoughts.
Space, Grace, and the Weight of Responsibility I appreciate your framing of space and grace—qualities that overwork and self-criticism tend to erode, yet paradoxically, they are essential for sustained impact. When anxiety takes hold, perception narrows and hence does our view and our take on the world. The world becomes a harsh list of unmet goals, and the mind latches onto the flawed logic that working harder is the only way to balance the equation. But, as you describe so well, the equation doesn’t balance—at least, not like that. The gap between the immensity of suffering and the belief that we must do more is a dangerous place to stand. Many EAs fall into it, subconsciously assuming responsibility for suffering, as if by sheer force of will, they alone can stop it. The world has failed to exert control over its injustices—so the mind convinces itself that we must. A great way to resolve cognitive dissonance, but it has a price that takes it toll.
The Unspoken Role of Anger I appreciate your call grace towards oneself, but I wonder what if sometimes we have a little too much of non-judgement towards the world. We are often far harsher on ourselves than on the world. Almost as an act of respect, we refuse to blame external forces, instead internalizing the weight of every injustice we fail to prevent. And yet, anger at injustice can be a protective force, keeping us from expecting the impossible from ourselves. Too often, though, because anger doesn’t fit our self-image as rational, nonjudgmental optimizers, it has nowhere to go—except inward. The mind, unable to direct this frustration at an amorphous, chaotic world, turns it against the self. If I just worked harder, if I just sacrificed more, if I just did one more thing… And yet, as you so clearly describe, this is the very mechanism of the Anxiety Trap. The illusion of control. The belief that relentless striving will somehow fix what is unfixable.
The Cost of the Trap But trying to close the gap through sheer effort doesn’t just lead to exhaustion—it actively harms our ability to do good. The body stings with the weight of all the things left undone. The guilt of knowing that every hour we take for ourselves is an hour that could have helped someone else. But as you emphasize, sustainability is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. Burning out does not serve the world. Pushing through anxiety at all costs does not maximize impact; it shrinks it. Your post illustrates why enough must be enough, even when the work is infinite. Not because the work isn’t important, but because it is. The very people who are most dedicated to fixing the world are often the ones most at risk of being consumed by it.
Letting Go Without Losing Sight So how do we hold onto our ambition without being consumed by it? Your post offers an answer: we prioritize. We make trade-offs explicit. We set boundaries not to limit our impact, but to protect it. But I think there’s something deeper, too. We allow space for joy and lightness, not just as self-care, but as strategic necessity. Creativity, resilience, and long-term motivation come from a place of psychological safety. We must recognize that guilt, exhaustion, and self-sacrifice are not badges of honor—they are warning signs.
A Final Thought The world does not operate by the logic of eliminating suffering as efficiently as possible. That misalignment can be maddening. But rather than letting that frustration paralyze us—or worse, turn inward—we must accept the limits of what one person can do. Not with resignation, but with resolve. We must recognize that our capacity to create change depends on our ability to sustain ourselves.
I think it takes a lot of courage to post this on the forum—courage that has the potential to have an impact how EAs approach (their) mental health and fully account for the consequences of pushing past personal boundaries in the name of impact. The Anxiety Trap you describe feels very familiar, and your reflections resonate with me. I’d love to add a few thoughts.
Space, Grace, and the Weight of Responsibility
I appreciate your framing of space and grace—qualities that overwork and self-criticism tend to erode, yet paradoxically, they are essential for sustained impact. When anxiety takes hold, perception narrows and hence does our view and our take on the world. The world becomes a harsh list of unmet goals, and the mind latches onto the flawed logic that working harder is the only way to balance the equation. But, as you describe so well, the equation doesn’t balance—at least, not like that. The gap between the immensity of suffering and the belief that we must do more is a dangerous place to stand. Many EAs fall into it, subconsciously assuming responsibility for suffering, as if by sheer force of will, they alone can stop it. The world has failed to exert control over its injustices—so the mind convinces itself that we must. A great way to resolve cognitive dissonance, but it has a price that takes it toll.
The Unspoken Role of Anger
I appreciate your call grace towards oneself, but I wonder what if sometimes we have a little too much of non-judgement towards the world. We are often far harsher on ourselves than on the world. Almost as an act of respect, we refuse to blame external forces, instead internalizing the weight of every injustice we fail to prevent. And yet, anger at injustice can be a protective force, keeping us from expecting the impossible from ourselves. Too often, though, because anger doesn’t fit our self-image as rational, nonjudgmental optimizers, it has nowhere to go—except inward.
The mind, unable to direct this frustration at an amorphous, chaotic world, turns it against the self. If I just worked harder, if I just sacrificed more, if I just did one more thing… And yet, as you so clearly describe, this is the very mechanism of the Anxiety Trap. The illusion of control. The belief that relentless striving will somehow fix what is unfixable.
The Cost of the Trap
But trying to close the gap through sheer effort doesn’t just lead to exhaustion—it actively harms our ability to do good. The body stings with the weight of all the things left undone. The guilt of knowing that every hour we take for ourselves is an hour that could have helped someone else. But as you emphasize, sustainability is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. Burning out does not serve the world. Pushing through anxiety at all costs does not maximize impact; it shrinks it.
Your post illustrates why enough must be enough, even when the work is infinite. Not because the work isn’t important, but because it is. The very people who are most dedicated to fixing the world are often the ones most at risk of being consumed by it.
Letting Go Without Losing Sight
So how do we hold onto our ambition without being consumed by it? Your post offers an answer: we prioritize. We make trade-offs explicit. We set boundaries not to limit our impact, but to protect it.
But I think there’s something deeper, too. We allow space for joy and lightness, not just as self-care, but as strategic necessity. Creativity, resilience, and long-term motivation come from a place of psychological safety. We must recognize that guilt, exhaustion, and self-sacrifice are not badges of honor—they are warning signs.
A Final Thought
The world does not operate by the logic of eliminating suffering as efficiently as possible. That misalignment can be maddening. But rather than letting that frustration paralyze us—or worse, turn inward—we must accept the limits of what one person can do. Not with resignation, but with resolve. We must recognize that our capacity to create change depends on our ability to sustain ourselves.