worry
Main Entry: 1wor·ry
Pronunciation: 'w&r-E, 'w&-rE
Function: verb
2 a : to harass by tearing, biting, or snapping especially at the throat b : to shake or pull at with the teeth c : to touch or disturb something repeatedly d : to change the position of or adjust by repeated pushing or hauling
3 a : to assail with rough or aggressive attack or treatment b : to subject to persistent or nagging attention or effort
4 : to afflict with mental distress or agitation : make anxious
intransitive verb
2 : to move, proceed, or progress by unceasing or difficult effort
3 : to feel or experience concern or anxiety
I do not worry. It's just something I rarely do. This has not always been the case, but more on that in a bit. Four or five times in the past few weeks, I have run up against one of several worriers in my life. Several additional times, the idea of worry has come up in conversation. Weird, considering it's generally just not something that spends a lot of time in my consciousness.
I truly believe that we all as adults become what we know as we grow up. My father once spent two hours (on our way to vacation!) driving and yelling about the misery of adulthood after one of us smart-ass kids pushed the wrong button by uttering "don't worry about it" in response to something he said. Worry? We didn't know the meaning of the word, but we would, hoo boy we would. And dad was right. I won't speak for my sibs, but personally, I worried myself right into an eating disorder. I spent more nights than I care to remember pacing the floor, ringing my hands about *who knows what.* I became what I knew.
During the time that I wore the Yellow Badge of Worry I married another of my kind, the son, brother, nephew, stepson, cousin of worriers. I'm not so sure he's the grandson of a worrier, I never saw that in Grandma Sarah, so that "long line" of worriers may be horizontal, rather than vertical. I'm pretty sure he's also not the father of worriers.
I thought I was an adult. I thought I was who I was, who I would be. No, in fact, I was only what I knew. I was limited experience and (sorry dad) poor role models. At some point, I began to realize a few truths. Here's a big one: Worry is destructive. Fear of the unknown draws focus and energy away from the constructive pursuit of solutions. Oh, that was a hard one to swallow, but swallow I did. Worry is insidious. It's a weed that can grow big and glorious from a single clump of nutritionless dirt.
So now, I don't worry. I ruminate, I ponder, I might even reflect. I do not allow worry to waste my time. I still think I'm an adult, now I'm a little more comfortable with who I am - an action, rather than a reaction. My truths carry me: Worry is destructive. Peace trumps joy, but a full house of joy is still a sweet hand. Those who love me, love me regardless. What others think of me is less important than what I think of myself. And if dessert's included, eat it first.
7 comments:
What, me worry?
I'm not much of a worrier and never have been. Sometimes I get butterflies in my tummy before a big event.
Wow Dorothy, how profound! Unfortunately, I too am a worrier and as much as i tell myself just to think of the worst that could happen and imagine what I would do about that situation, if does not seem to stop me from worrying.
Well ruminated!
I absolutely agree, peace trumps joy any day because when you hold the Peace card you will soon find you also have Joy in your hand.
In my own ruminations I have come to understand that being raised in a household of worriers is akin to living with second-hand smoke, it's all pervasive, permeates your beingness and the long-term effects are still being uncovered.
In the same vein, children who are long exposed to second-hand smoke tend to gravitate towards one of two options...they take up smoking themselves or go to extreme lengths to avoid smokers and smoking at all costs. From my experience, neither extreme seems to lead to true wellness and so now, with the wisdom of growing age (pushing 40 after all!! Hee hee!), I am slowly learning to stand in the miasma of second-hand worry by first applying my own oxygen mask. The more I have let go of the need for horizontal approval (ie. confirmation from others of my own worthiness) and control (ie. the desire to determine outcomes) and moved in to vertical affirmation (confirmation from my True Self and Spirit) the less the impact of the human practice of worry on my own wellness. But it's a learning curve, and like weeding yourself of all unproductive habits, we fumble and back-slide in the process but that too is ok. In my view it is all about being gentle..with yourself and others and as you move into a greater understanding of the benefits of gentlenss vs the whipping post you are more able to move into the flow of grace and away from the tide of self-recrimination.
So all, be gentle with yourself and watch the worry fall away and the underlying river of Peace and Beauty that is you come to the surface.
Blessings!
Wise words...very wise.
Don't worry, be happy.
Me, not a worrier for the most part. But married to one. The things he worries about.
I like that statement, "Peace trumps joy."
I don't do much worrying. I mainly think, just like you said. I weigh options, think about scenarios, try to be proactive. I have been fortunate to have had a few bad things happen in life that turned out fine, nothing that was terribly awful, except one thing. That thing, I couldn't prevent, so I have concluded that it does no good to worry about what could happen.
Worry is the dark room where negatives develop.
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