Does worry solve anything?

Does worry solve anything?

Crazy question, I know, since within the question is the obvious answer. Of course, worry doesn’t solve a thing, does it? Instead, it just makes us anxious, fretful, and more worried, not less.

Yet, the reality is that we still worry, don’t we? We fret, stew, and dwell upon the issue until it nearly drives us mad!

I know this one well. I’ve spent my life worrying about things. You name it; I’ve worried myself into sleepless nights, anxiety attacks, and migraine headaches, just to name a few outcomes. More than I care to admit, I’ve spent more days and nights mulling over the issue, problem, or concern. But, the truly crazy thing about that is, I kept thinking it would work this time.

Yet, it never did.

I learned this pattern well. After all, I came from a family of worriers. My Dad was a master worrywart. Not that he didn’t have a lifetime of issues that would bother anyone, mind you. He had severe health challenges, nearly lost his life to TB when there was no cure available, was hospitalized for many years with TB, and struggled to earn a living at a job he detested. A career he was good at yet wore him out with stress.

Not to mention, he would end up sick or injured right before leaving every vacation that my parents would plan. Even though both my parents loved to travel. He literally worried himself sick before it was time to go, and because it always seemed to happen this way, my Mom would end up angry, discouraged, or worried, too.

Even though I didn’t understand the dynamic going on at the time, I would pick up their energy.  And, I too, would end up worried and anxious with no idea why. I’d walk around with my stomach in knots.

I am sure many of you have experienced this as you grew up, too. The adults in your life would behave in a way that would utterly confuse you as a child, and you’d end up with an emotional response. A response that made no sense to your young mind. 

My response was to worry, fret, and be anxious more often than not. And, over the years, it became a pattern that I seemed to have no way to control. It did not seem to matter how big or small the issue was; I’d worry it to death.

It also did not matter whether there was an obvious solution or not. I’d worry it was not the correct answer, or I’d do it wrong.

Like planning and packing for a trip — the humor doesn’t escape me, as I too ended up with my Dad’s worrywart fretting over a trip. The entertaining part is that my job as a corporate VP required frequent travel. So, I learned to pack simply and quickly with as few things as possible to relieve my constant worry. I had to remind myself I could purchase anything I forgot. After all, I wasn’t going to rural areas — my corporate travel took me to major cities throughout the United States.

As I look back on how many years I worried, it is no wonder I ended up with a toxic gall bladder, life-long gut issues, years of daily migraines, and cancer twice. Yet, my body warned me, over and over again, that worry and stress were futile. I just didn’t connect the dots.

Sadly, or maybe thankfully, cancer woke me up to the futility of worry — that worry and stress were optional. It was my choice. These days when I notice the pattern, I take a deep breath, let the emotion flow through me, and hand it over.

Hand it over to who, you might ask? For me, it is to the all-knowing universal source, which for me is God. And, as I release it to this beloved divine source, I trust that whatever comes forth is divinely guided. 

I’ve learned not to question it. I have also learned to let the emotions of worry flow through me knowing that I’m not in control — God is!

I don’t know about you but worry no longer has a place in my life. Does it have one in yours? Could it be time to hand it over?