Worrying About Worrying

I may have made this point before, in any case, it bears repeating: it seems strange to worry about the future (as much as I do) given that it doesn’t really exist, can’t hurt you, and isn’t that likely to turn out the way you’re concerned it will anyway.

That said, I do spend an inordinate amount of time stressing out over the merely possible. I lie awake in the early dawn tossing and turning as I turn over in my head various scenarios that might ensue if I do or fail to do this or that other thing.

For instance, this morning, I occupied my brain with worries about the upcoming school year and the various challenges and difficulties I will face in the months to come. But that’s still months away and who knows what fall will bring? For all I know, the space aliens might attack in August and come September, we’ll all be living in cages, fattening ourselves up to be eaten for an interstellar mid-morning brunch. (Now that’s something worth worrying about.)

It’s essential to plan, of course, but as often as not, I end up winging whatever I’m doing, so the hours of forecasting I do about what might possible occur could probably be better utilized by simply enjoying myself—or sleeping as the case may be.

One time we were putting together some event—a party or day trip or something—and my friend, Nick was being particularly antsy about our preparations or lack thereof. I said something intended to downplay the potential dangers ahead and he responded, “Well, someone’s got to worry about it!”

I’m not really sure this is true. Indeed, someone has to do something in most cases in order for something to happen, but it’s not obvious to me that worry really has to figure in to the picture.

That said, I still can’t help worrying that if I don’t worry, then I will have something to worry about.


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