Wednesday, September 23, 2020


 Musing about worrying.

I remember a time when I didn’t worry about anything important,

I left that to the grown-ups.

I just worried about having to get my homework done before I could play,

What was going to be on tv,

What annoying thing would one of my brothers do or say to bug me,

Little things.

Now I worry about big things,

About things beyond my control,

About things that feel like a ticking time bomb.

I worry about my health, the safety and future of my children,

And people who have so little,

And so many people who are worrying so much.

Some people say that worrying is wishing for something bad to happen.

I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, so I looked it up.

Worry, the intransitive verb, 

The last definition listed is to feel or experience concern or anxiety, to fret.

Worry also means struggle,

To move, proceed, or progress by unceasing or difficult effort.

Dialectal British (whatever that is),

Strangle, choke.

Worrying causes worry.

Fretting too much can strangle you.

It’s the struggle phase that matters,

The place where we exert effort to work through the thoughts and emotions

So we can move out of worry 

And into a happier place.

Worry, the noun,

Mental distress or agitation from concern usually for something impending or anticipated,


A cause of worry:

Trouble, difficulty.

Worry, the transitive verb, 

There’s a direct object involved, 

Something tangible,

Something real.

Dialectal British: choke, strangle

To harass by tearing, biting, or snapping especially at the throat


To touch or disturb something repeatedly

I remember when worrying was a short term thing

Over things that would disappear from my life

As fast as they appeared.

Even if it felt like it took forever,

It didn’t.

I got over it.

How I long for those innocent days,

When worry was short and quickly become a memory

That I rarely thought of,

Instead of a long-term state permeating my whole life,

And the lives of many around me.

Rational thinking says not to worry, it won’t change anything.

Emotions and daily negative stimuli

Poke and prod my psyche,

Choking, strangling, struggling, fretting,

Recovering just in time to be afflicted again.

Worrying and memory,

Hoping the impending doom won’t happen,

Hoping the anticipated consequences aren’t real.

Worrying, hoping, wishing 

It will all go away,

And I can go back to sweating the small stuff,

And then laugh about worrying about nothing.