‘The world isn’t just stressed—it’s losing control’: Inside the Mind of CSK’s mental coach David Reid

Stress is one of the most commonly discussed issues from drawing rooms to top corporates’ boardrooms and medical conferences. The debate has drawn scientists to discuss the possibility of a vaccine against stress or to address the psychological issue through some kind of biological intervention. Athletes across the spectrum are said to be among the most stressed professionals given the increasingly intensifying nature of competitive sports. Cricket and cricketers are no exception. 

The Indian Premier League (IPL) has established itself over 16 seasons as the most competitive club cricket, making and breaking players' careers. And one of the most successful IPL teams is Chennai Super Kings (CSK), which has seen the emergence of Captain Cool of cricket, Mahendra Singh Dhoni. But behind the cool and calm demeanor of CSK players, there is one man, David Reid, the IPL franchise’s mental skills coach.

More from Business

In an exclusive conversation with Firstpost, David Reid, who has also been an adviser to some of the top global leaders, offers a striking diagnosis of our times: the world isn’t just under pressure; it’s mentally overwhelmed. 

The author of the newly launched book Thriving, Reid has spent years working with elite athletes, CEOs, and high-performance teams, decoding what separates those who crumble from those who rise. In this wide-ranging interview, he explains why success doesn’t guarantee stability, why attention, not time, is the real currency today, and how mastering your internal world has become the ultimate competitive edge.

Edited excerpts: 

What inspired you to write? Thriving in a world where people are still struggling to survive?

That's a great question. I think you're right in saying the world is struggling. I think the research is pretty clear about that at the moment, that there's a lot going on. And I think people's mental health — there's a toll that's been taken for people across the globe.

And I guess part of my efforts to write the book are to acknowledge that, to say that mental health is central to functioning. And my belief is that mental health is not just about the absence of illness. It's actually about the quality of our moment-to-moment lived experience. 

In today’s world of loneliness, anxiety, and burnout, what is the biggest risk to mental health, and how can people practically take care of it?

It’s a great question. To me, anyone who keeps trying to improve in this tornado of life is a hero. The desire to keep going, to not give up, to maintain hope—it takes real resolve and dedication. I don’t want to be flippant about that. It requires effort and committed action. And in my experience, people who do this work aren’t just doing it for themselves but for those who depend on them.

There are many things people can do, but the starting point is education about our internal world—because that’s where we have control. Most people are focused, understandably, on external circumstances—relationships, work, the political environment—but often without doing the internal work.

So the starting point is awareness. Am I aware of the quality of my thoughts? The patterns that keep showing up? Some are helpful, others limiting, but we all have them. The question is whether we’ve taken the time to understand them.

Even more important are emotional patterns. Do I understand emotion—its purpose, how it arises and passes, and what I can actually control?

This is where we begin with athletes—with simple education that becomes a habit of self-awareness: awareness of thoughts, emotions, and the nervous system. These are untapped advantages. Athletes now use this in real time—between deliveries in cricket, or seconds before a penalty in football—regulating themselves under pressure.

They’re not controlling the game; they’re controlling their internal state. That’s the focus.

I also don’t want to downplay the broader issue. There is enough evidence to suggest a mental health crisis, and burnout is real. Burnout happens when we expend too much energy without renewing it.

So once we build awareness of our thoughts, emotions, and nervous system, the next step is learning how to recover—to renew energy so we can perform at our best more often.

That’s a big part of what I explore in the book Thriving.

What is the one fear top CEOs rarely admit publicly?

There’s a lot of fear right now, especially around the global economy. But a deeper fear I see is the sense that people won’t be able to control others—that they can’t make people different from who they are. It sounds simple, but it’s something we can all relate to. In families, in workplaces—there’s often someone we wish were different.

Leaders struggle with this, especially when it’s someone important in the business whose behavior they can’t change. That creates frustration, and over time, the realization sets in that the person isn’t going to change.

What I help people understand is that this often comes down to character traits. The traits we dislike most in others are usually the ones we hold as very important ourselves. For example, for me, it’s lateness. If someone is repeatedly late, I find it difficult—not just because of the behavior, but because it’s something I would hate to be associated with. Reliability matters deeply to me.

If someone is late once or twice, it’s fine. But repeated lateness becomes frustrating because it conflicts with my own values. And that’s the key—what frustrates us often says more about us than the other person.

If we’re not aware of this, we start focusing excessively on the negative aspects of that person. We assume they should value the same things we do. But for them, it may simply not be as important. The frustration sits within us, yet we project it onto them—“you need to change.”

That’s where the problem escalates. We become intolerant, then disappointed, and if it continues, it turns into resentment. Over time, we overlook what’s positive about that person.

The shift is towards awareness and acceptance—recognizing that people are different. Instead of trying to change them, we become curious. What is it about this person that leads them to behave this way? What’s driving it?

That curiosity is a healthier response. It helps us move away from the fear that we can’t change others—and toward accepting them as they are.

Q: How can people actually understand and manage their internal world—thoughts, emotions, and the nervous system—in practical terms?

I think there are many ways to approach this, but developing education and self-awareness is fundamental. That’s one of the reasons I wrote the book—my role is to help people build that awareness. Because ultimately, we have a real gap in self-awareness.

I’ve been fortunate to work across countries—India, South Africa, the US, Australia, Japan—and see how different cultures approach it. In India, for example, there’s a rich tradition of meditation. It’s a powerful way to sit with emotions and observe them rather than be consumed by them. Instead of saying, “I am angry,” you recognize, “I am experiencing anger.” That shift is subtle but significant.

But when I work with young athletes here, many aren’t actually practicing it. They come from a faith-based culture, but not a self-awareness practice. When they begin meditation—even though it feels uncomfortable at first—they quickly see the benefit. They start observing their thoughts without judgment, watching them arise and pass. Sitting with emotion without reacting—that’s difficult but essential. Because without awareness, you can’t regulate. That’s the foundation of behavior change.

My background is in forensic mental health. I spent 20 years working in courts and prisons with some of the most distressed individuals, and now I work with high performers. I’ve seen the full spectrum.

And what I see today is that avoidance is the dominant coping strategy. People are getting on with life—working, providing—but not acknowledging their emotional struggles. They don’t create time or space to understand themselves. As a result, there’s a kind of systematic denial of emotion.

It’s understandable. People feel they don’t have time. In a country like India, where competition is intense, self-reflection feels like a luxury. The same is true in business—fast-paced, high-pressure environments where people feel they must keep pushing.

Even the mental health space is shifting in a concerning way. The wellness movement has, in some ways, hijacked the conversation. People rely on devices and biometric data to tell them how they feel, instead of asking themselves directly. Before they even get out of bed, a recovery score dictates their day. That’s the opposite of self-awareness.

Emotions are one of the hardest parts of being human. They affect decisions, relationships, and performance. But many people spend energy trying to control how they feel—and that’s where things go wrong.

People often say, “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.” Take anxiety. I run camps for kids in India, and the most common question is, "How do I stop feeling anxious?”

But that’s the wrong starting point. Trying to control emotion creates resistance. You don’t control how you feel—you feel what you feel for a reason. The goal is to understand why.

This is where athletes offer a powerful lesson. They don’t wait to feel good to perform well. They accept that emotions fluctuate, but that doesn’t define their ability. By accepting emotion, they free themselves to perform under pressure.

Most people want emotional intelligence but try to understand others without understanding themselves.

So the starting point is simple: accept how you feel—and then decide what you do next. That’s what you can control.

Why does our generation face more mental health challenges than previous ones—and what role does technology play?

It’s a great point. First, we have far more awareness of mental health today and more access to support. So I sometimes question historical comparisons, because many people likely suffered in silence in previous generations. In Australia, for example, issues like alcoholism and domestic violence were often unrecorded. Now we’re more aware, though we still don’t fully understand the picture.

There is data on extreme outcomes like self-harm, but we don’t have accurate global data on overall distress. So while it may seem previous generations had it easier, I’d question that—there was likely a lot of hidden suffering without the support systems we have today.

That said, the world has changed. We’re living through an IT boom, and our brains haven’t evolved to match this new environment. From my work with the tech industry, including companies like Apple, it’s clear that technology is reshaping both our mental state and productivity.

Attention has become our most important skill. When smartphones emerged around 2004, the average attention span was just over 150 seconds. By 2024, it had dropped to around 47 seconds.

This decline is linked to how we use technology. Constant scrolling—what Apple refers to as the “2-second flick”—trains the brain to switch attention rapidly. Over time, that erodes our ability to focus deeply.

There’s also strong research on social media. A 2025 meta-analysis by Griffith University, covering 71 studies, found that short-form platforms like TikTok, Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts are linked to declining mental health among young people. This has already influenced policy—Australia became the first country to ban social media for children under 16.

So yes, the world today is very different. But we’re not going to eliminate technology. The question is how we manage it in a more sophisticated way.

And it comes back to the same point—the solution starts internally. If we’re not aware of what’s driving our behavior, we won’t be able to intervene effectively.

Q: Do top CEOs, athletes, and high performers struggle with mental health like everyone else—or are they mentally different?

Well, I would say yes—everyone grapples with this. The difference is that some people do the work. The individuals and teams I work with—whether in business or sport—are led by people willing to work on themselves first.

They face the same challenges: distraction, mood fluctuations, limiting thought patterns. But the key separator at the highest level is the ability to focus on the right thing at the right time. Awareness allows them to manage these challenges more effectively.

The most talented athletes aren’t always the best performers. At the Olympic level, talent is often similar—sometimes even lower. What separates winners is their ability to focus precisely when it matters. Everyone is talented. Everyone works hard. The difference is mental skill.

This applies equally in business. Many leaders struggle with trying to control things they can’t—people, outcomes, situations. It’s natural, but ultimately ineffective. We can’t control outcomes. If we could, we’d never lose—and no one wins all the time.

So we let go of outcomes. That frees us. Of course, we want to win—but so does the opposition. Instead, we focus on process—what we can control. Process is everything that gives us the best chance of achieving the outcome.

I also see common thinking traps. Excessive worry about the future is a big one—even among top leaders. We need to turn down that noise. Many also push relentlessly for more, setting very high standards. But sometimes, “good enough” is enough. Not every effort needs to be perfect.

The key point is this: high performers aren’t free from mental struggles. They’re just better at managing them—and they consistently do the work.

What makes Mahendra Singh Dhoni stand out mentally as a human being—not just as a cricketer?

MS, like other high-performing athletes, isn’t actually distinct. He’s just India’s highest-performing athlete over a long period. Others like Virat have followed, but they share a common trait—they stay calm in high-pressure moments where others don’t. They focus on the right thing at the right time while others get distracted.

In how they live, they avoid the distractions most people fall into. The best athletes understand that attention is their most important asset. So they create practical plans around what to focus on—and then they practice it.

They’re also creative. They understand what motivates them and bring that into daily life. They don’t wait for external events, like a holiday, to feel a certain way—they access that state every day.

Honesty is another defining trait. The best performers are deeply honest with themselves. They go deeper in conversations, seek awareness, and pay close attention to detail. They’re not drifting through life—they’re intentional.

They also use simple, practical tools consistently. For example, breathing. It’s the most accessible tool we have. When you breathe in, your heart rate rises; when you breathe out, it falls. So to feel calm—whether walking out to bat, entering a meeting, or giving a presentation—you slow your breathing and extend the exhale. That helps regulate the nervous system.

The best athletes don’t just know this—they practice it repeatedly. They track whether their heart rate drops and whether their decisions improve. That’s why they appear calm on big stages. It’s not luck—it’s trained.

They still feel anxiety and pressure, but they don’t let it dictate performance. They separate emotion from action.

Ultimately, what sets them apart isn’t just talent—it’s the work they put into training their internal world.

Interestingly, they spend most of their time preparing—training, recovering, refining—while performance itself takes up very little time. For most people, it’s the opposite—we’re constantly “in the game” with little time to train ourselves.

That’s really the motivation behind my work—to make these tools accessible. The difference isn’t complexity; the tools are simple. The difference is consistency in using them.

What can CEOs learn from Mahendra Singh Dhoni’s decision-making in high-stakes moments?

They need to invest in themselves. He’s one of the most graceful people I’ve ever met—and I say that genuinely. When there’s alignment between what you stand for, your words, and your actions, there’s a natural gracefulness. I’m not saying I’ve achieved that—I’m striving towards it. But I’ve seen it, and it’s rare.

I’ve seen it with MS, and also with a few world leaders—people in business and politics who have a massive impact. Not many, but a few. They move with ease. They’re deeply present because they’ve organized their internal world. Their actions align with what they believe is right and true. Their words and behaviors carry a simplicity—“No, we don’t do that here" or “That sounds great; can we explore it?” There’s an ease in how they operate.

Even when things don’t go well, they meet those moments with the same ease. Everything becomes a learning opportunity. In sport, there’s no failure—you win, lose, or draw, but you learn every time. What did we learn about our people, the conditions, and the opposition? If you’re learning, you’re improving, regardless of the outcome.

People outside elite sports often see it as win or fail. But inside that environment, everything is an opportunity. So they approach everything with grace. They’ve done the internal work and are less dictated by external circumstances. When fans rush in for selfies, they handle it with grace. When challenges arise in teams or relationships, they respond with composure instead of reacting emotionally. They pause, then respond thoughtfully.

How can we actually control overthinking, anxiety, and negative thoughts in real life?

I think this is something a lot of people can relate to. If I were working with you, we’d start with basic education around what thoughts are. It might sound esoteric, but it’s very practical. Thoughts are not facts, yet we treat them as true and hold on to them too tightly. Instead of observing them, practices like meditation, conversations, and journaling help shift our relationship with thoughts. We begin to see that thoughts are just thoughts—not facts.

I worked with an Indian cricketer who described thoughts beautifully: they’re like oxygen. We breathe them in, use them for a while, and then let them go. They’re not ours. But we tend to take ownership of them as if they’re important and factual, when most are not. They’re imperfect outputs of an imperfect human in an imperfect world—shaped by bias, assumptions, and inaccuracies.

It’s about awareness—understanding what thoughts are, why they arise, and recognizing patterns. Our mind has the ability to “mentally time travel.” We can be in the present, stuck in the past, or projecting into the future. Thinking about the past helps us learn, and planning for the future is necessary. But we shouldn’t live in those spaces—we should live in the present.

Because the brain is designed to keep us safe, it often jumps to worst-case scenarios. We worry about what matters to us—our work, family, or future. That’s natural. But this mental time travel pulls us away from the present moment.

Anxiety exists in the future. It’s the fear of something that hasn’t happened yet. Yet we bring that fear into the present, affecting our breathing, heart rate, and body. Our mind moves ahead, even when the threat isn’t real.

This is the brain’s normal function—to move between past and future and try to protect us. Once we understand that, we stop resisting it. Resistance is what sustains and amplifies emotion. When we accept it, it passes.

It’s normal to compare ourselves to others—we’re wired for social connection. Our survival has always depended on belonging to a group. But we’re using an ancient brain in a modern world.

Our nervous system doesn’t distinguish between real and imagined threats. Most of what we fear isn’t happening now—it’s what we expect might happen. Like an athlete before a game, the fear is in anticipation, not reality.

Today, being judged—especially online—feels like a real threat. Worrying about others’ opinions is more common than ever. We call this the “comparison generation.” Our brains haven’t adapted to this environment, which is why fears like public speaking feel so intense, even though they’re irrational.

That’s why education is key. Once we understand this, we realise thoughts are not facts and many concerns are outdated.

It’s not about not caring what others think—it’s about accepting that we can’t control it. No matter how this conversation goes, I can’t control what you think of me, and you can’t control what I think of you. Trying to control that is wasted energy.

I care what you think—I just can’t control it. So I focus on being myself, showing up as best I can. And the evidence shows things tend to work out better that way, with far less wasted energy.

This is especially important for the next generation, growing up in a very different environment. Understanding how our ancient brain interacts with the modern world—and learning acceptance—is key.

Acceptance is the opposite of resistance. And in this case, it’s accepting that we cannot control what others think of us.

That is completely liberating.