In this week's Friday Night Thought Tale Hour at the Henderson's, I want to share my perspective on a life lesson that has hit me again front and center recently. As a parent, we all know (at times hope) the day is coming when we will look fondly at our offspring as they thrive from afar. But when it really starts to develop and become real, a sneaky little feeling begins to arise, and it can cause you to clutch onto any possible hold you still might have on their lives. You may not even want to acknowledge it, but in fact, you are worried. You are not paralyzed with fear, or sick with anxiety, but certainly affected by worry, and it's a pitfall that can hinder the growth of your relationships and steal from your joy. So what follows is the little bit I've cataloged as a prescription for the symptoms of this emotion so that you can instead open your hands up wide and let them instead, go. Go wherever life leads them.
Because the kids are alright - really.
I know what it’s like to feel trapped by worry and in fact, I have always been a silent worrier. A time I experienced of great loss pushed me into becoming a chronic worrier, especially as it related to our children and grandchildren.
I worried and obsessed mostly about the hypothetical, the imaginary, the infinite variety of “what-if” scenarios. Eventually, I convinced myself that if I worried about every conceivable thing that could go wrong with their lives, I would either help them avoid them altogether or numb myself of their effects. Neither of which made any logical sense.
"Fly" created by Sharon Farbota
The kids were very understanding and supportive at first. I remember the first year after we lost our son Seth, the kids called me every day. That's right - every day. It was like an unspoken ritual. I remember the day I realized what was happening, and I decided to stand up to fear and worry. I needed to give my kids the right to live unfettered and without obligation to me and my unhinged worry.They were forming new bonds, and strengthening existing ones in the most exciting and vibrant years of their lives. I knew that the very last thing they needed was to feel the shadow of my grief motivated worry on them. I sometimes had to stop myself from calling or bugging them, but it became easier. During times when I knew they were struggling, I would send a simple email instead, maybe with a positive quote or scripture. So many times I wanted to grab them back, knowing I could use trumped up emotion or logic. But in my resistance, as I recognized what I was feeling, a great thing happened.
I brought my worry out into the light, and it shriveled up.
Ben Franklin wrote; “Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.” Chronic or hidden worries gain strength when they are kept out of the light of truth. They act as a fungus, and not the good mushroom kind. Here are the spotlights that helped lead the way to dealing with worry, and keeping my hands open to letting go.
Because the kids are alright - really.
"Fly" created by Sharon Farbota |
The kids were very understanding and supportive at first. I remember the first year after we lost our son Seth, the kids called me every day. That's right - every day. It was like an unspoken ritual. I remember the day I realized what was happening, and I decided to stand up to fear and worry. I needed to give my kids the right to live unfettered and without obligation to me and my unhinged worry.They were forming new bonds, and strengthening existing ones in the most exciting and vibrant years of their lives. I knew that the very last thing they needed was to feel the shadow of my grief motivated worry on them. I sometimes had to stop myself from calling or bugging them, but it became easier. During times when I knew they were struggling, I would send a simple email instead, maybe with a positive quote or scripture. So many times I wanted to grab them back, knowing I could use trumped up emotion or logic. But in my resistance, as I recognized what I was feeling, a great thing happened.
I brought my worry out into the light, and it shriveled up.
Ben Franklin wrote; “Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.” Chronic or hidden worries gain strength when they are kept out of the light of truth. They act as a fungus, and not the good mushroom kind. Here are the spotlights that helped lead the way to dealing with worry, and keeping my hands open to letting go.
Marty in the mountains of Bolivia |
You are not your worry.
Initially, I did what most people who worry do - I tried to make it stop. I quickly learned that trying to block thoughts of worry was like trying to stop the Niagara Falls from flowing.
I eventually learned a simple but profound truth that changed everything for me:
You are not your emotions.
This is the true power of detachment. Not the detachment that tries, usually with falter, to be stoic, but the one that allows you to feel your emotions without identifying with them.
I began to apply this by observing myself non-judgmentally as I worried. As I continued to observe myself, I learned to be at peace with my inability to stop worrying. After all, what I was feeling was completely understandable. I would give another human permission to feel this way, why not myself?
Jeremy with Deo in Puerto Rico |
Worry is not about the present.
We rarely worry about problems we presently face. Worry is about the future unknowns. The impermanent nature of life.
This feels unnatural at first, but the truth of this realization was another game changer for me. My worries were about a future I could not control. What about the past? The only past events I worried about were the ones I feared would adversely affect my future. That future, is quite simply, now.
The present is a thing worthy of your full energies. Attending fully to the present, and all that it obligates based on past commitments, wards off future worries.
Stay busy with the business of today. Stay present.
Stay busy with the business of today. Stay present.
Worry can be confined.
Seth snowboarding in the Alps, 2007 |
Want to confine your worry? Try scheduling ten to thirty minutes a day for worry. I do mine best with my dear husband or best friend. Sometimes, I write them down, and come up with an action plan for dealing with the root causes of each worry. If the worry reappears outside this scheduled time, postpone it until the next worry session. Don't let it steal one minute of your energy in the present. Because if you do, you'll miss something, and you often can't get that something back.
You are human.
And now, the painful admission of a 'super mom': The greatest source of my worry was my attempt to be superhuman. I was trying to be all things to all people. I worried incessantly about what I needed to do to be sure I was the most important part of the lives of my kids. Not only is this unrealistic, it's unhealthy. So, rather than beating myself up for not living up to everyone’s expectations, I decided to embrace my limitations. I still make a Herculean effort at times, but I know I cannot please everyone, and I am at peace with this truth.
It’s Time to Really Let Go... Really.
I know it might seem hard for you to integrate these tips, especially if, like most of us, you’ve struggled with a long-standing habit of coddling worry rather than openly challenging it.
New Mom, Michaela, with Violet Joy |
Stand up to worry. Today.
Separate yourself from it. Confine it. And let it go. Let them go, and watch them grow.
Tonight's cocktail for the Thought tale hour will be a nice glass of red called, "Paso a Paso" which means, 'make a way'. When we abate worry and let go, we make a way for new growth. CHEERS FRIENDS!
Tonight's cocktail for the Thought tale hour will be a nice glass of red called, "Paso a Paso" which means, 'make a way'. When we abate worry and let go, we make a way for new growth. CHEERS FRIENDS!
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