My husband tells me that I worry too much. Almost every other day, he asks calmly, “Why do you worry so much?” I wonder why he asks, since the answer is so clearly obvious. With some frustration, I explain to him once again: “Somebody’s got to do it. And since you don’t worry about anything, I have to do the worrying for both of us!”

A Gallup poll last year reported that stress and worry decline for men after age 50. It also reported that women suffer more stress and worry than men do—at all ages.

Worrying is a skill that I have perfected over the years. Give me any situation, large or small, and I can worry myself to distraction. It’s my job. If I didn’t worry, then…then… then something awful might happen! And don’t try to get me to stop worrying by reminding me that 90% of the things people worry about never happen. Humph! That just proves that worrying works!

While some objects of my worry have been, admittedly, insignificant and would not matter next year or even tomorrow, other things were very important and certainly worthy of my worry. Growing up, I worried that the end of the world would come before I was old enough to get married and have a family. When I became marriageable age, I worried that the ugly corn on my little toe would drive away any suitor contemplating marriage if he ever saw me barefoot.

Once married, I worried that I would never be able to have children. (Four adoptions and five step-children later, I finally gave birth (at the age of 41 and 44) to my two homemade babies. Now, I worry about how these children will turn out. And at what point will I know that they have finally “turned out”? An even more current worry, with my 18-year-old daughter’s return from a year away at college, I see her so filled with light and love, such an angel. I worry that she is so good she might die young. 

As for myself, I worry that I won’t be able to catch up on my reading before I die. A very real possibility, I think.

At 60, I look forward and fret about the future. Beyond the fact that I am already experiencing the effects of this aging frame, I think of the ten sisters in my mother’s family, who, for the most part, lost their mental faculties years before their bodies gave out.Yikes! Additionally, I worry about how I will die, since I’m not big on pain. Need I go on?

Enough already! Seriously, though, the truth is, I actually know that worrying is an unproductive, disabling, and downright unpleasant state of mind and body (ever hear of stomach ulcers and high blood pressure?), not to mention its tendency to stress relationships and destroy personal peace. When we worry about the future, we create unhappiness in the present. Rather than helping or making things better, worry can be debilitating. It drains us of our emotional strength. It is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind, cutting a channel into which all our other thoughts are drained. Not good.
 

How I Learned to Worry Less

So what can we do? Someone said, “If you don’t like how you’re feeling, then change the way you’re thinking.” Thoughts create feelings, and we can choose our thoughts. Negative thoughts may come to us unbidden, but we decide whether or not we will entertain them and invite them to stay.

To worry is “to feel uneasy or anxious; to fret; to torment oneself with disturbing thoughts.” We must learn not to fret. So let’s see if we can change our way of thinking!

There are two things you never need to worry about: (1) the things you can control and (2) the things you can’t control. In the first case, we can deal with the situation by taking appropriate action. Thus, no need to worry; we can rest assured that we have done all we can. In the second case, worrying about things we cannot control can paralyze and demoralize us. Drop it; it’s out of our hands. Burden lifted.

Some time ago, we were traveling on the freeway to Salt Lake City where my husband was scheduled to play the piano at a wedding breakfast in downtown Salt Lake. Unfortunately, we encountered extreme stop-and-go traffic congestion for miles. We knew we would be late; worse, we had no way to contact anyone. Ordinarily, I would have been grinding my teeth and pulling out my hair as my stomach churned. Instead, I surprised myself by thinking rationally, “There is not one thing we can do about this situation. There is no helicopter in sight to lift us out of this mess.” I told myself to relax—although my husband recalls I was crocheting a mile a minute. We arrived 45 minutes late. The hostess had been made aware of the freeway delays and graciously greeted us, and everything turned out fine.

For every problem under the sun,
There is an answer or there is none.
If there is one, then try to find it.
If there is none, then never mind it.

One method recommended for dealing with debilitating worry over a particular situation is to think, “What is the worst thing that could happen in these circumstances?” When that has been determined, face and accept that possibility—and then see if there is something constructive that can be done to improve upon that potential outcome. Even the simple act of identifying the worst thing that could happen might help us realize that the situation isn’t as bleak as the vague, dark cloud of worry may have led us to believe.

Live for the Present

There are two days about which we should not worry. One of these days is yesterday with its mistakes and cares, its pains and heartaches. Yesterday has passed and is forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring it back. Yesterday is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is tomorrow, with all its possible burdens and adversities. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. The sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds—but it will rise. For now, tomorrow does not exist.

This leaves only one day—today. Surely one can bear the burdens of just one day. It is only when we add remorse or bitterness for things that happened yesterday along with the dread of what may happen tomorrow that the weight becomes more than we can bear.

Don’t Rob Yourself of Happiness

A researcher mathematically calculated that forty percent of our worries will never materialize; thirty percent deal with old decisions that cannot be changed; twelve percent focus on criticism that is mostly untrue; ten percent deal with our health, which only worsens when we worry; only the remaining eight percent of our worries are legitimate. Life does present real problems, but they can be better met head-on when we eliminate useless and senseless worry. Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow; it only saps today of its strength.

The misfortunes that are most difficult are those that never come. Mark Twain said of worry, “I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them have never happened.” Worry is the interest we pay on the trouble we borrow.

Stop Worrying and Have Faith

From a lifetime of experience, I was aware of the negative effects of worrying—mentally, emotionally, and physically. But it wasn’t until recently that I gained new insights that jolted me into a realization that worrying is spiritually destructive, as well. It gave me a desire to rid myself of the worrywart aspect of my character once and for all.

A friend taught me that worrying is simply not right. It shows a lack of faith. It is contrary to hope. And, rather than being proof of my love, worrying is a passive-aggressive way of trying to control someone. Indeed, worry, doubt, and fear are the antitheses of faith, hope, and charity.

I have spent my life perfecting the art of worrying. Now, looking forward into the future, I ask myself, “Why should I spend the remaining years of my life fretting and worrying over things that don’t matter or things I cannot control?” I have now come to realize that, yes, I have concerns—but I can choose to live a purposeful, secure, and confident life of optimism and faith, based on true principles of life and living. I can do as my teenagers suggest: “Just ‘chill out,’ Mom!” Perhaps there is hope that I can learn to relax and realize that all we need to be concerned about is to do what we can, where we are, with what we have—and not expect all the answers here and now.

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