What The Fellowship of the Ring Can Teach Us About Performance Anxiety, Teamwork, and Self-Doubt

I have a confession to make.

I really like The Lord of the Rings.

So when I had the chance to talk about The Fellowship of the Ring with actor, improviser, and mental health professional Connor Chaney on Movie House Sport Psychology, I was pretty happy to make that part of my job.

Of course, as is usually the case with Movie House Sport Psychology, we weren't just talking about whether Gandalf is the coolest wizard in Middle-earth. We were looking at the movie through the lens of psychology and asking what Frodo, Aragorn, Boromir, Sam, Merry, Pippin, and the rest of the Fellowship can teach us about performing under pressure.

And there is actually quite a bit.

The Fellowship is a group of people who don't necessarily want to be on the journey they're on. They're scared. They disagree with each other. They have different personalities and different goals. Some of them have serious doubts about themselves.

Sound familiar?

Athletes and performers deal with many of the same things.

Performance Anxiety Doesn't Mean You're Not Ready

One of the things Connor and I talked about was how often people assume that feeling nervous means something is wrong.

If you're an athlete and your heart is pounding before a competition, you might think, I'm way too nervous.

If you're an actor and you're backstage thinking, What on earth am I doing?, you might assume you're not prepared.

But Connor has been performing for more than 20 years, and he told me that he still gets nervous before going on stage. He's performed for very small audiences and for more than a thousand people, and the nerves haven't simply disappeared.

That doesn't mean he's doing something wrong.

It means he's human.

There are some performances where you're probably going to be nervous. State finals. Conference championships. A major audition. A performance you've spent months preparing for. Sometimes the event matters so much that your body is going to let you know about it.

The goal doesn't always need to be getting rid of those nerves.

Sometimes the goal is getting them down to a manageable level and then doing what you came there to do.

That's an important distinction.

You Don't Have to Feel Confident to Perform Well

This is something I see in athletes all the time.

We can put a lot of pressure on ourselves to feel confident before we perform. We want to know that we're ready. We want to feel calm. We want to believe we're going to succeed.

But feelings don't always cooperate.

Connor and I actually have very different experiences with improv. I tend to approach improv more like strength and conditioning. I enjoy it, I have fun with it, and I generally don't feel particularly nervous.

Connor has more nerves and self-doubt.

And yet those differences don't necessarily tell us anything about who is going to have the better performance.

That's important.

Feeling confident isn't the same thing as performing well.

You can feel nervous and perform well.

You can feel confident and have a lousy performance.

You can have doubts about yourself and still walk onto the stage, step onto the field, or get up to the starting line and do what you need to do.

The feeling doesn't have to come first.

Frodo Doesn't Become a Different Person

One of Connor's observations about Frodo really stood out to me.

Frodo is a little guy.

And unlike a lot of movie heroes, he doesn't suddenly become a superhero. He doesn't transform into some physically imposing warrior who can take on everyone by himself.

He's still Frodo.

He's still vulnerable. He still needs help. He still gets scared.

And that's part of what makes his character interesting.

Sometimes we think becoming a better athlete or performer means becoming a completely different version of ourselves. We imagine that confident athletes don't get nervous, that successful performers never doubt themselves, or that the best people in their field somehow have everything figured out.

That's a pretty difficult standard to live up to.

Frodo gives us another option.

You can be yourself and still do difficult things.

You can be scared and still move forward.

And you can need other people without that making you weak.

Frodo needs Sam. A lot.

That's not a flaw in the story. It's part of the story.

The Fellowship Shows Why Team Cohesion Matters

The Fellowship is also a pretty good example of team cohesion.

These people aren't exactly best friends when they start out.

They have different backgrounds, different personalities, and different reasons for being there. Some have much more in common with each other than they do with everyone else.

The hobbits are already close. Aragorn and Legolas develop a relationship. Gimli and Legolas eventually develop one of the more entertaining friendships in the series.

Boromir is a little different.

But the Fellowship has a shared goal: protect Frodo and help him get the Ring where it needs to go.

That shared goal matters.

Connor and I talked about how things tend to go badly when individual characters decide they need to take over and do things their own way. The same thing happens in improv.

If everyone is focused on their own agenda, the scene becomes a mess.

You have to be willing to let go of some of what you want in order to support what the group is trying to accomplish.

That's true in sports, too.

A team isn't just a collection of individuals who happen to wear the same uniform. The players have to figure out how their individual roles fit into something bigger.

Sometimes that means giving up the shot.

Sometimes it means making the extra pass.

Sometimes it means being the person who does the less glamorous job because that's what the team needs.

And sometimes it simply means trusting your teammates.

Boromir and the Problem With Going It Alone

If there's one member of the Fellowship who really struggles with this, it's Boromir.

Boromir wants to save Middle-earth.

That's important.

His intentions aren't exactly evil. He sees the threat facing his people and wants to do something about it.

But gradually, his goal becomes more individual.

He starts thinking about taking the Ring to Gondor and using its power to help his people. He's frustrated with the situation. He feels like he's doing the hard work. And he has spent much of his life trying to live up to the expectations of his father, Denethor.

That's a pretty heavy load.

Connor and I talked about how easy it can be to fall into the mindset of, I'm the one doing all the work here. If nobody else is going to take charge, I guess I have to.

You can see a version of this in improv.

Maybe you feel like your scene partner isn't following the rules. Maybe they're not contributing enough. Maybe you think you need to take control because otherwise the scene is going to fall apart.

So you grab the steering wheel.

Usually, that doesn't make the scene better.

It also isn't particularly kind to your scene partner.

The same thing can happen on a team.

If you constantly feel like you have to carry everyone else, you may eventually start resenting your teammates. You may stop trusting them. You may try to control things that aren't actually yours to control.

Boromir might have benefited from remembering that he was part of a Fellowship, not a one-man rescue mission.

Pressure and the Need to Prove Yourself

There's another part of Boromir's story that I think athletes can relate to.

He has a lot to prove.

He's trying to live up to his father's expectations. He's trying to live up to the reputation of Gondor. He's trying to be the person who can save his people.

That's a lot of pressure for one person.

Athletes can find themselves in similar situations.

Maybe you're trying to prove that you belong on the team.

Maybe you're trying to live up to what your parents expect from you.

Maybe you're trying to prove that you're as good as your coach thinks you are.

Maybe you're trying to prove something to yourself.

That pressure can become exhausting.

And sometimes, the more you feel like you have to prove yourself, the harder it becomes to simply perform.

Instead of focusing on the task in front of you, you're thinking about what the performance means.

What if I fail?

What will my coach think?

What will my parents think?

What does this say about me?

Suddenly you're trying to perform and evaluate yourself at the same time.

That's a difficult way to compete.

The Hobbits and the Power of Radical Acceptance

One of my favorite parts of our conversation was Connor's description of the hobbits as having what he called a kind of “suicidal optimism.”

They're in an absolutely terrible situation.

They're being chased by terrifying creatures. They're traveling through dangerous places. The fate of Middle-earth is hanging over them.

And yet they can still enjoy food.

They can still joke around.

They can still appreciate the little things.

Connor connected this to the idea of radical acceptance.

The hobbits don't need to pretend that everything is okay. They don't need to eliminate their fear before continuing. They accept that this is the situation they're in and keep moving.

There's something useful about that for athletes.

Sometimes we think we need to feel completely prepared, completely confident, and completely calm before we can perform.

But what if you don't?

What if you're nervous?

What if you're tired?

What if you have some doubts?

What if you don't feel like you're having your best day?

You can still compete.

You can still perform.

You can still take the next step.

And you might even be able to enjoy parts of the experience along the way.

Acting on Your Values Even When You're Afraid

There's a concept from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, or ACT, that fits The Fellowship of the Ring surprisingly well.

It's the idea of acting in the direction of your values even when difficult thoughts and emotions show up.

Frodo doesn't want this journey.

Aragorn doesn't exactly jump at the opportunity to embrace his destiny.

The hobbits are scared.

They don't magically stop being afraid.

They keep going because something matters to them.

For Frodo, that's his friends, his home, and the larger good of Middle-earth.

That's an important distinction for athletes and performers.

You don't have to wait until you feel fearless to do something meaningful.

If competing matters to you, you may compete while you're nervous.

If performing matters to you, you may perform while you're anxious.

If being part of a team matters to you, you may have difficult conversations with teammates even when you're uncomfortable.

The question becomes less, How do I get rid of this feeling?

And more, What do I want to do because this matters to me?

Sometimes You Just Need to Start Walking

There's another moment from the movie that Connor connected to performance that I really liked.

Frodo doesn't fully understand what he's getting himself into.

In a way, that's probably helpful.

If he stopped to imagine every possible danger, every possible consequence, every possible way things could go wrong, he might never leave the Shire.

Sometimes knowing too much about what could happen can make it harder to take the first step.

Athletes can do this, too.

We can spend so much time thinking about the perfect strategy, the perfect mental skill, the perfect routine, or the perfect way to prepare that we never actually get around to doing the thing.

At some point, you have to start walking.

You can take the first step while you're nervous.

You can take the first step while you're uncertain.

You can take the first step without knowing exactly how everything is going to work out.

That's true in sport. It's true in performance. And, honestly, it's true in life.

You Don't Have to Feel Good to Do What Needs Doing

This might be the biggest takeaway I had from our conversation.

You don't have to feel good to do what needs doing.

You might be standing offstage with your heart pounding.

You might be sitting in the locker room before the biggest competition of your season.

You might be staring at the starting line wondering why you voluntarily signed up for this.

You might be thinking, This is insane. Why am I doing this?

Take a breath.

Then start.

You don't have to eliminate every anxious thought before you act.

You don't have to convince yourself that you're going to succeed.

You don't have to suddenly become Frodo the Superhero.

You can be Frodo.

You can be nervous.

You can need your Sam.

And you can still walk down the road.

What The Fellowship of the Ring Can Teach Us About Performing Under Pressure

There are plenty of lessons we could pull from The Fellowship of the Ring, but these are the ones I'll be thinking about the next time I work with an athlete who is worried about performance anxiety or self-doubt:

You can be nervous and still perform well.

You don't have to feel confident before you act.

Needing other people is part of being on a team.

A shared goal can bring very different people together.

Trying to carry everything yourself can create problems.

You can act according to your values even when you're afraid.

And sometimes, instead of thinking about everything that could go wrong, you just need to start walking.

There's a reason the Fellowship works.

It's not because everyone suddenly becomes fearless or perfectly confident.

It's because they keep moving forward together.

And that's a pretty good lesson for athletes and performers.

Looking for Sport Psychology Support?

Performance anxiety, perfectionism, self-doubt, and pressure can make it harder to enjoy something you care about. Sport psychology can help athletes develop practical ways to handle those challenges while continuing to perform and compete.

I work with athletes and performers through telehealth throughout California, including Long Beach and the surrounding South Bay and Los Angeles areas.

If you're an athlete looking for help with performance anxiety, anxiety, OCD, perfectionism, or confidence, you can schedule a consultation to see whether working together might be a good fit.