How do you hear the word “worry”?
What kinds of it are there?
Which are bad and which are good?
I know we’re all aware of clearly bad and unhealthy worry. Worrying about bills, say, like the main above. Does it help? Not usually. Does it make the task more scary? Often. So why not just do what can be done, not worry about what can’t be controlled, and not let emotions torture us?
Another kind, sort of, is a kind experienced by some women I’ve known. Worry about… being a hostess. Guests are coming, and the whole preparation, and even much of the affair, becomes fraught with worry. Is the party good enough? This was always torture for me because… it makes having friends over something that… I’d often rather avoid. And “company” should be easy. I have few friends who’d cast me, or women I know, out because they weren’t “super hostess.”
But I like to think of another kind of worry. It’s a kind that often gets blended in with love, and hence seems… good.
Say you have a loved one who’s unhappy, or who doesn’t have his or her life together, or who you merely think has these problems. But you also don’t want to communicate with him or her about it because it… might be uncomfortable.
So what do you do? Do you worry? And does the worry make you feel loving?
It sometimes reminds me of a few sayings:
“Everyone talks about the weather but no one does anything about it.”
“Don’t complain about your problems: fix them.”
“Get busy living or get busy dying.”
Worry is a bit like judgment sometimes, too, especially about a person you aren’t willing to take the time to get to know better. It’s always dicy to believe you understand another person, particularly if you’re sealed off from interaction that could reveal misunderstanding. Of course you can’t just spend your whole life trying to understand more, without every doing anything with the understanding you think you have, but neither should the learning process stop to “save Time” or anything.
Of course, in this kind of situation where a loved one seems to “need” worry, love is behind it. And love feels good. It feels noble. It feels like worry, in this case, is “doing something.”
But it’s a bit like me… worrying about the environment (and I worry a lot), but never doing the hard work to do anything about it.
In my experience, worry is a bit like fear. Or anger.
And judgment just LOVES to hide in the shadow of love. It doesn’t get noticed there, very often. Assumptions. Jumping to the Island of Conclusions (to reference “The Phantom Tollbooth”).
Worry can be false productivity. It relies, often, on assumption. And you know what happens when you assume: you make and “ass” out of “u” and “me.”
Worry can be like a crutch.
Now there’s a guy we need to worry about.
It takes hard work, skill, and patience to really talk to someone about hard things. It takes lack of judgment. It takes a true interest in “what’s really going on” and not just in maintaining propriety and comfort. It takes an understanding that many of us are lonely and isolated partly because we insist on avoiding what’s “really going on.”
Work for greater understanding. It can lead to more helpful things than worry. Nobody wants chemotherapy for their worry cancer.
Would that be… Prozac?
Thoughts? I’m well aware that… my “actual blog entries” get no feedback or likes. But I’d love to start a conversation.
You? It’s how we learn. And maybe you’d end up worrying about me less. 😉