Sunday, March 28, 2010

Thoughts on Worrying

The following is from a book I am reading right now called The Gift of Fear, and the author’s thoughts on worry were extremely enlightening to me. I highly recommend this book to everyone. What I got from his section of worry was to be present, be aware and take action, don’t wallow in the uselessness of worry.

"In the original form of the word, to worry someone else was to harass, strangle or choke them. Likewise to worry oneself is a form of self harassment. To give it less of a role in our lives, we must understand what it really is. Worry is the fear we manufacture – it is not authentic. If you choose to worry about something, have at it, but do so knowing it is a choice. Most often, we worry because it offers some secondary rewards. There are many variations, but a few of the most popular follow.
• Worry is a way to avoid change; when we worry we don’t do anything about the matter.
• Worry is a way to avoid admitting powerlessness over something, since worry feels like we are doing something. (Prayer also makes us feel like we are doing something, and even the most committed agnostic will admit that prayer is more productive than worry).
• Worry is a cloying way to have connections with others, the idea that to worry about someone shows love.
• Worry is a protection against future disappointment. (kind of like setting yourself up for it by worrying)
After decades of seeing worry in all its forms, I’ve concluded that it hurts people much more than it helps. It interrupts clear thing, waste time and shortens life. When worrying, ask yourself, “How does this serve me?” and you may well find that the cost of worrying is greater than the cost of changing. To be freer of fear and yet still get its gift, there are three goals to strive for. They aren’t easy to reach, but it’s worth trying:
1. When you feel fear, listen.
2. When you don’t feel fear, don’t manufacture it.
3. If you find yourself creating worry, explore and discover why.
Our imaginations can be the fertile soil in which worry and anxiety grow from seeds to weeds, but when we assume the imagined outcome is a sure thing, we are in conflict with what Proust called an inexorable law: “Only that which is absent can be imagined.” In other words, what you imagine – just like what you fear – is not happening."
 

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