The Worry Wart

I feel it in my shoulders.  I roll my neck around and squeeze the muscles in my neck trying to relieve the discomfort.  It's tension.  Even my boss told me recently that I worry too much.

He's right, and this is nothing new.  I'm a stresser.  I hate it, but it's undeniable.  I envy those who cruise through life with an air of calmness.  They're laid back, like the California surfers I've met.  I've tried to emulate this unflappable demeanor, and I may even fool some folks, but inside I still feel the weight of worry.

I recently made a mental list of things about which I repeatedly worry.  I have found that the list is almost always centered on career and money.  It's not that we're in dire straits now, but rather I look at what the future may hold.  Things like the state of my 401(k).  What if I lose my medical certificate?  What if I don't get on with a major air carrier?  I worry about the state of my life insurance policy.  Will I have enough to send my two children to college?

I would love to be able to loosen my grip a bit and breathe easier, but I'm wired to think that mentality opens the door wider to miss something or make a mistake.  In other words, I have trouble separating being calm for being a slacker.  I know they are two different things.  I have absolutely no interest in being regarded as a slacker, but I would love to be thought of as calm and collected.  My wife is so wonderful at this.  I once asked her what we would do if I was somehow unable to get on with a major air carrier.  Without missing a beat, she shrugged and replied, "What if?"  I asked her if she ever worries about things like that, and she said what she always says: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I have come to understand that she simply means that we are currently doing everything we can and that worrying would only bring problems -- not help.  She's right.

Her calmness goes a long way to soothe my emotional racket.  I've tried to take steps toward being the guy I want to be, because I genuinely believe it's a choice.  I still find myself falling off the wagon from time to time, but, overall, I can feel my mental programming slowly changing for the better.  I try to remember to count my blessings and remember that in the grand scheme of things, I will end up okay -- despite what might, or might not, happen.

I'm okay so far, anyway.