Worry doesn’t fix anything. So why do it at all?
So much of my adult life has been filled with worry. More responsibility, more worry.
It’s like I’ve carried around this bucket labeled Worry, and over the years it’s only gotten bigger. And somehow, I’ve always managed to fill it.
Now when I look back at old photos, I only see the good. But I wasn’t fully in those moments. I was too busy worrying about things that never even happened.
There’s a kind of worry that’s useful—the pragmatic kind that pushes you into action. But somewhere along the way, I picked up worry for worry’s sake. Useless worry. The kind that robs you of the moment you’re actually in.
(Holy shit—have I been carrying crushing anxiety for years without naming it?)
Here’s what I’m learning: Enjoy the present. The laughs. The dinners. The drives. The coffee.
Worry doesn’t take you anywhere but away from now. And now is the only place we’re ever really alive.