Navigating fear, anxiety, and the survival brain when the budget leaves no easy way out.

In more than 30 years of leading organizations, I’ve learned that leadership is a job of brutal contrasts. There are parts of being in charge that I have always loved…

Starting new projects from the ground up. Coaching talented people and watching them advance their careers. The shared exhilaration when the team meets and exceeds a massive challenge. Celebrating hard-won successes. Even the compensation that rewards carrying high-level responsibility. Those have always been the high points.

And then there are the really low points.

Losing a major funding source. Facing an unavoidable budget crunch. Navigating an unexpected emergency that suddenly burned through all our cash reserves. Considering layoffs. Having to close facilities. Communicating and dealing with the aftermath of agonizing decisions.

I hated the anxiety and ambiguity that came with making those decisions. They were excruciatingly tough to carry out, knowing that people’s lives, families, and livelihoods were going to be impacted, and that I was the one who had to communicate the decision and would be the one to take the blame.

Right now, that exact reality is hitting school leaders across the country.

In my recent conversations with colleagues, superintendents, principals, teachers, and counselors, the message has been unequivocal: the single greatest concern keeping district leaders awake at night is school budgets, potential funding cuts, and all the cascading ramifications that follow.

The fiscal ground in K-12 education is shifting dramatically.

• expiring federal relief funds
• shifting student enrollments
• increasing operational expenses
• escalating local tax pressures

All of these have created an unforgiving financial squeeze. When superintendents realize that staff reductions and program cuts must happen, it’s because we are all confronting an unyielding systemic reality.

That doesn’t make it easier.

Based on these conversations, I decided to write a four-part series, a practical and emotional roadmap I wish I had had on my desk when I was carrying the weight of those decisions:

• Part 1 (This week): The Barely Bearable Weight — Managing anxiety, fear, and our survival instincts, ours and those of the people in our organizations facing difficult cuts.
• Part 2: Decisions in the Fog — Not only are the decisions not simple, the effects are going to last for a long time. Making choices under complexity: stepping out of chaos, embracing liminality, avoiding over-reliance on outside experts, and letting go of the pressure to find the mythical “one right answer.”
• Part 3: Truth with Empathy — Communications during conflict: navigating different conflict styles, using Nonviolent Communication (NVC), and learning how to hold firm, non-negotiable boundaries with deep compassion.
• Part 4: Beyond the Dip — Things are going to go wrong (things are going to go well, too. Don’t forget that.) How will the organization react? This will be about iteration through crisis: using OODA loops and antifragility to help your schools emerge stronger, more adaptable, and more unified.

Let’s begin with The Barely Bearable Weight

1. When the Survival Brain Takes the Wheel

As the CEO having to consider and then make difficult decisions about who was going to keep their job and who wasn’t, what programs were going to be cut and which ones weren’t, what perks needed to be eliminated and which we could keep, it was only natural that my survival instincts, my limbic brain, flared up: fear and anxiety, binary thinking, blame, victim mentality.

These are the exact reactions all of our brains make in these situations. I was no exception.

The human brain is primarily an organ of survival, not strategic enlightenment. When an external crisis threatens our security, resources, status, or community, the limbic system perceives an existential threat.

It reacts in hundredths of a second—long before our logical, reflective prefrontal cortex even realizes what has happened.

From an evolutionary standpoint, this lightning-fast response was vital for our survival. When a predator lunged from the brush, our ancestors didn’t have time to weigh options, gather committee feedback, or engage in creative problem-solving. The limbic system immediately triggered fight, flight, or freeze emotional reactions, shutting down non-essential cognitive functions and flooding the bloodstream with stress hormones to maximize the chances for physical survival.

Today, our brains react to fiscal cliffs, budget shortfalls, disagreements, change, and board ultimatums with that exact same ancient survival mechanism. And because the rational prefrontal cortex comes online seconds later, it often simply invents logical-sounding justifications for the quick emotional reaction. As one administrator taking a recent course observed when reflecting on what she had originally thought was a rational decision:

“The emotional brain made the decision out of frustration, stress, and self-preservation, and the prefrontal cortex just explained it afterward. It was eye-opening to recognize how the brain can convince us we are being completely rational when we are actually reacting from fear first.”

And it is not only affecting us. Everyone we work with is going through the exact same neurological storm. District administrators, principals, union reps, classroom teachers, parents, and support staff are all having their survival circuits tripped simultaneously.

When everyone in an entire school system is operating in survival mode, the capabilities we need most are the first ones taken offline:

• Critical and creative thinking: We lose the ability to see nuanced alternatives and default to rigid, all-or-nothing binaries (“either we cut all arts programs or the district collapses”).
• Empathy: We become emotionally guarded and detached, treating people like obstacles or budget lines in our limbic system’s efforts to protect us from suffering.
• Alignment to goals: Departments retreat into silos, fighting territorial turf wars to protect their own staff at the expense of the district’s broader mission.
• Flexibility and executive function: We get stuck in cognitive paralysis or frantic, reactive busywork, unable to prioritize calmly.

You cannot access high-level executive function or thoughtful decision-making while your nervous system believes you are fighting for your life.

2. The Way Out: Activating the Self-Commander and Co-Regulation

MindShifting teaches us that these survival responses are natural, predictable human reactions to threat.

The fear, anxiety, and anger don’t automatically disappear. The goal is to recognize when our survival saboteurs have seized the controls and then choose to deliberately shift back into our resourceful “Sage” mode—the calm, grounded state where our prefrontal cortex can do its job.

As one school leader reflected on noticing this state:

“Catching myself in limbic mode means noticing when my survival brain takes over—racing thoughts, irritability, a tight chest, and the urge to fight, freeze, or avoid. Your mind and body get stuck in a tense panic loop where you can no longer think creatively. I have to physically stop, initiate deep belly breathing, and check in: I am okay right now; I am not in immediate danger. That pause is what allows my brain to start thinking again.”

To make that shift reliably, MindShifting provides a framework called the Self-Commander, which consists of three internal practices, complemented by a vital fourth practice involving another person:

A. Self-Awareness

You can only shift a state once you have noticed it. Self-awareness or metacognition is the practice of catching yourself in real time: noticing your tight shoulders, shallow breathing, racing thoughts, or the sudden urge to blame someone else or retreat into a spreadsheet. Name the state: “My survival brain is terrified right now; I am slipping into blame and panic.” Metacognition creates space between the emotion and your actions.

Sometimes this is enough to nudge you back to resourcefulness.

B. Distraction and Physical Resets

Because the limbic system operates subconsciously and before conscious thoughts, you cannot simply reason or command yourself out of anxiety, anger, or fear. You must distract your brain by focusing your thoughts on something else so that the stress hormones have a chance to flush out of your system:

• Mindfulness and breath: Taking slow, deliberate breaths where your exhale is longer than your inhale instantly engages the parasympathetic nervous system, signaling to your brain that you are physically safe which calms the limbic emotional centers.
• Sensory interruption: Stepping away from the desk to take a brisk 10-minute walk outside, engaging in physical exercise, listening to music, or sketching. These intentional distractions give the hyper-aroused limbic system a moment to cool down so it grants access to your resourceful prefrontal cortex.

As another participant put it:

“When unexpected stress hit, my first impulse was pure reaction. I had to pause, take three deep breaths, and remind myself: ‘This is just a moment.’ Shifting to curiosity—asking ‘What is one small thing we can do next?’—helped pull me out of the panic loop and back into problem-solving.”

C. Positive and Grounded Self-Talk

When survival brain runs wild, its inner monologue is brutal: “Everything is falling apart,” “People are going to hate me,” or “I should have seen this coming.” Positive self-talk intentionally replaces catastrophic panic with grounded, realistic self-talk:

• “This is not a situation I would have desired; how can I constructively explore possibilities that move us forward?”
• “Now that I am calmer, how could I respond with respect and honesty?”
• “We have navigated hard times before, what could the next step be?”

Note that positive self-talk opens the brain to possibilities. “Work harder” or similar exhortations actually strengthen the limbic survival reaction instead of calming it. Positive self-talk is often in the form of an open-ended question.

D. Co-Regulation Through Coaching

In addition to internal self-command, human beings are social creatures who regulate their nervous systems through connection with others. When you are the superintendent, you rarely have anyone inside your district with whom you can safely be vulnerable about your deepest anxieties.

This is why having an experienced coach or peer who understands these cognitive techniques is essential. A coach is in a position to co-regulate you—holding a calm, grounded space where you can speak your fears out loud without judgment, discharge the panic, and work through the mental knots until your resourceful Sage perspective comes back online.

We see the power of co-regulation whenever someone under stress is met with steady presence rather than argument. As one educator shared about helping a colleague work through intense overwhelm:

“When someone was completely overwhelmed and shutting down, lecturing or debating never worked. We stopped, took a few deep breaths together, and labeled what was happening: ‘You’re feeling overwhelmed right now, and that makes complete sense.’ Once the emotion was named without judgment, their nervous system calmed down, and we could reframe: ‘Let’s just look at one small piece together.’ Within minutes, the mindset shifted from paralyzed to focused.”

For me, I use my adult children as sounding boards and for positive coaching when I am feeling especially stuck. The funny thing is, they often turn to my books and use my own methods to help me ground myself.

3. Healing the Entire System

These four remedies—self-awareness, intentional resets, grounded self-talk, and co-regulation—are not just tools for your personal sanity. They are the exact practices you must model and create for the people you lead.

When your community, administrative staff, and teachers see their superintendent staying grounded, acknowledging their fear without becoming defensive, and refusing to succumb to blame or panic, you give the entire organization permission to step out of survival mode. You become an emotional anchor, helping others regulate their own nervous systems so they can continue supporting students in the classroom.

Taking the First Step

Building this kind of internal resilience doesn’t happen by reading an article once. It takes deliberate, low-stakes practice before the storm fully breaks.

If you are facing these pressures and want a structured, practical way to begin shifting your mindset and strengthening your leadership presence, I invite you to join our free two-week sprint. It takes just about an hour a week for two weeks, and gives you hands-on experience applying these frameworks to your immediate challenges:

👉 Register for the Free Two-Week Strategy Sprint Here

Join the Conversation

Over the next three weeks, we will move from internal regulation into the operational and relational challenges of leading through cuts:

• Next week in Part 2, we will tackle Decisions in the Fog—how to make tough budget choices under complexity without paralyzing yourself trying to find the “one right answer.”

In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you. What are you experiencing in your district right now?

Please share your thoughts in the comments below. You can agree, disagree, push back, or share your own experiences with the weight of leading through difficult times. Your reflections help all of us learn together.