My mom was a worrier. Growing up it drove me nuts. I used to grumble under my breath that if she wasn’t worrying about something, she was worried that she wasn’t worrying.
I now realize I am my mother’s daughter. My name is Janet and I am a worrier. I worry about my kids, particularly my youngest at the moment. I worry about Joe’s mom. I worry about a friend who is in dire financial straits. I worry about the future of the planet.
I fully realize that worrying is a wasted pastime. I work hard during my yoga/meditation practice at banishing the worry from mind and body. But it always finds its way back like a virile virus.
Last night worry invaded my dream world. I dreamed that I was walking a pack of wolves. They were running off here, there and everywhere and I was concerned that other people who were out walking their dogs would be afraid of them. Finally I got them reasonably together and turned around to walk them home again. But it was such a struggle to move forward…it was like I was walking on the moon. Every step was a major accomplishment. I remember thinking, “Why is the simple act of walking so difficult?”
So dear friends, here’s the question of the day: are you a worrier? If you are, how do you get rid of your worries?