I don’t know how many of you have ever had a panic attack, but they’re no fun. About a year ago, I had one that sent me to the emergency room, and that episode taught me that one’s nerves can age along with one’s gall bladder, liver, heart, aching back and kidneys. I’ve always been a worrier, but this sojourn taught me to watch out for those moments when I let something rattle my cage: to recognize worries for what they are, and learn to deal with them in an intelligent manner.
Without some kind of filtering system aging can be frightening and frustating; it's an eyeopener the first time you can't get up easily from a kneeling position, or to see work pile up and not have the energy to finish it, or to not remember someone’s name, or to have difficulty trying to get a meal for company on the table all hot at the same time…oh yes, sometimes wherever I look, if I look hard enough, I can find that demon- worry, worry, worry. Will I be able to drive 2 years from now? Will I begin to have more pain, or aching than I can stand? Will my loved ones develop serious illnesses; and then there is death, and that is another issue all by itself.
Recently Travelers showed a commercial about a dog who worried about someone taking his bone, and this simple little thing opened my mind to how often I have fretted and worried about someone taking my bone—my good life—away from me. How often these worries have cluttered up and otherwise wonderful life. The song that accompanied the commercial was so compelling I searched until I found out the composer, musician and lyrics for the song. The singer is Ray LaMontague and I encourage you to go to Utube and listen. It has become my newest theme song.
Trouble...
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble
Trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born
Worry...
Worry, worry, worry, worry
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone
…and it goes on. But for me, these words have become my mantra. If I tire out before the garden is completely weed-free, I shrug my shoulders, sing, “Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble. Worry, worry, worry, worry, worry,” and go inside and knit.
If I feel all those aches and pains of age as I’m trying to go to sleep, I sing my mantra song, take an aspirin and distract myself till I fall asleep. If someone I love has a problem, I worry, sing my mantra song, say a prayer and realize that 9 times out of 10 everything will turn out OK. If it doesn’t, my anxiety does nothing to help.
I wish I had had this helpful little ditty years ago. Perhaps I wouldn’t have worried my way through my adult years as much as I did. Somehow singing my Worry Song is like saying, “ OK, look at this situation the way it is. That’s life!” It has helped me accept life as it is. Worry, worry, worry never solved a problem, or saved a soul, or cured an illness.
1 comment:
A pleasure to read, Sue. I have also been a worrier forever and having three teens is trying my strength. It is so hard not to live in constant fear or communicate that fear to them. Recently, I changed my routine. I get up very early and after taking out the dogs and bringing them in,I listen to a 5 minute relaxation and breathing exercise on my Ipod. The sessions are free on Itunes and I have been amazed at how they have helped me. Just deep and easy breathing for 5 minutes and emptying the mind has given me instant results. I am sure I will still struggle with anxiety, but learning a few coping techniques has helped. So enjoying your writing!
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