Do you know what it’s like to worry?

I grew up with a mother who had worrying perfected to a fine art. In her older years, she improved on her technique until, I declared, if she didn’t have something to worry about, she’d worry about that.  worry

So I know a bit about worrying! I also know just how fruitless it is. There are people who, as my mom did, spend a lot of time fretting over things that might happen, things that could have happened, and things that would never happen. I bet you have met some of these folks yourself. Maybe, I say maybe, you are one of their populous numbers.

There was a time when I worried with the best of them. After all, I had a good role model. I wasted more time than I like to admit being tormented by nerve-racking thoughts. Until one fine day, I realized that the things I let nearly put me in a panic never came to be.

It was the things I’d never even considered that threw my life into a tailspin. I found out the things that created havoc came unexpectedly, when I hadn’t worried about them at all.

There have been several drastic challenges over the years. When I survived those things, I realized I could make it through anything. What was the sense of worrying? Why ruin my todays by worrying about what might, or might not, happen tomorrow?

Now I enjoy my good days and if something serious does pop up, I handle it as I go. I deal with facts, not suppositions. What a wonderful difference it has made in my world.

I wish you all peace and joy, and worry free days.Bee happy

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2 responses

  1. Why did you write that Carol? Just wondering. Is there a reason that, maybe, I should be concerned about something…anything?

  2. Rob, you’re a good friend. Thank you for caring. Sometimes when I can’t think of a topic to write about, I open a paper or a magazine, put my finger on a page and whatever I point at, I write about. That seemed particularly fitting yesterday. I had told my husband earlier that I wasn’t going to worry; I’d just wait and see what happened.

    I went to the doctor yesterday because I’m having weakness in my left leg. He said I need to have a MRI and to see a neurologist. I have a nerve problem; he suspects I’ve had a slight stroke. The funny part of this is when we left the examining room, he told his nurse, “She needs her head examined.” I wish you could have seen the look on her face!

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