My mom’s German boyfriend, who I refer to as “The Germ,” told my mother, “You don’t worry too much, you worry too soon.” Props to The Germ for that gem.
Although I wouldn’t entirely agree in my case because I can certainly worry too much as well, I believe that The Germ is right. Heck, I spent all of last week hyperventilating about a “what if” scenario that didn’t even come close to happening.
Imagine if we never worried too soon, or we never worried at all? What if worrying isn’t a natural human response or state of being, but we’ve collectively agreed it’s the norm? Food for thought.
A lot of people don’t think worrying is a big deal, so they wait until it’s unbearable, and something must be done. I’m at the point in life where I feel I’ve suffered enough, and I am ready to do something before a midlife crisis happens. (Though I’m pretty sure I’ve already had about 12 of those.) What can be done to help us chill out?
Acknowledging that we’ve created a habit of worry is a good place to start. Just like any habit, when we’ve done it enough, it becomes second nature. If we start acknowledging worry as a habit, rather than linking the feeling with our identity, we can start to reclaim our power. Our perspective will shift objectively and positively by looking at worry through that lens.
I know it’s annoying as shit to hear someone say all you have is now, you just have to wait and see, or be in the moment when you have a flat tire on Route 101, and you’re worried you’re going to miss your favorite barre class. That said, it’s true. Nothing else exists but now. The past is an illusion from our limited perspective, and the future is nothing but our imagination. When we worry, it is never coming from this moment in time. It’s coming from our programming of what we believe might have or will happen. A habit of thought.
Becoming aware of our worries, and taking those moments to transform our fears into a practice of mindfulness and presence, will help us not worry too soon. We will progress so long as we keep trying. It may Not be easy at times, but no mud, no lotus.
When someone doesn’t get what they want, whether it’s the job of their dreams, acceptance to their top college, or a good date, it’s hard to know how to respond. That said, it can be even harder to hear what others have to say about it. The go-to “Aww, I’m sorry” is probably the last thing anyone wants to hear. I’ve envisioned myself sucker punching people in the nose who give me responses like that, and though I felt a sense of guilt for my internal imagery, it felt justified. 
Waves of indecision and uncertainty crash over me like an infant playing too close to the ocean. What will happen as I go solo backpacking through Asia? What am I even doing there? Whenever I choose to return, or if I do, where should I set roots? I try to convince myself I know what I’m doing and put my mind at ease. Truth is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but it’s a masterpiece. Here’s why. 
Have you ever wanted someone to like you more? I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been there. It can make us insecure, overthink, worry, and question our self-worth. If we’re not careful, before we know it we’ll be coming across like Helga from Hey Arnold. 
There are times in our lives when we take a leap of faith and feel it all. Fear, anxiety, excitement, uncertainty, indecision, and joy rise simultaneously like the bubbles that cultivate while you’re pouring a glass of champaign. One of those times in my life is now. Taking leaps of faith is nothing new to me. I know these feelings lead to what I want. It’s winning or learning. I’ll take either one over being stagnant and complacent. So, what can we do to help us take that leap of faith? 
Five states, 10 national parks, tons of car singalongs, and a lot of takeaways from the experience that I’m ready to give out. I could probably write a list of tips longer than a CVS receipt, but for time’s sake, I’ll give you five.
Have you ever woken up, and within five minutes of going about your day, you already feel like sucker punching everyone in the face who has the nerve to ask you a question? Just me? Great… Anyways, maybe this’ll help.
I don’t care what anyone else has to say about the matter. Having a session with Rebecca Dawson, a medium, was the best $300 I’ve ever spent. Regardless of whether or not half of it was hocus pocus, though I don’t think it was, the hour long session was worth it. No candles, chants, or crystal balls, just an awesome authentic Australian chick, who channeled like she had been doing this since she popped out of the womb.
What’s your dream? Reads the prompt on the card in my writer’s group. I considered nonchalantly sliding the card back into the deck because it was a pretty loaded question, but I stuck with it, and the results are in. 
Brooke Lyn Landon 