On Friday night, David and I were talking over pizza. Every Friday night, actually, we are talking over pizza. We have a standing date and a standing order.
David was telling me how worried he was. About lots of different things.
As I sat there listening to him, I realized I’m not worried about anything. (Well, almost. We’ll get to that.)
But for the most part, I have given up worrying altogether. Worry pretends to be necessary and effective, when it is neither. It has never once prevented something bad from happening and it has never once improved any future scenario in any way. All it has ever done was rob me of present joys.
I thought about how I used to worry all the time. I remember when Caleb was applying for college, for example, I was so committed to worry, I would wake up in the middle of the night to do it. Ridiculous, really. It didn’t change one moment of his now glorious present.
As we sat there on Friday sharing our thoughts over the arugula and mozzarella, I realized how amazing it feels to have given up worrying as a way of living.
Err, almost.
Today I had to speak in a different congregation in our stake. It was a talk about love. The pancake apocalypse was heavily featured. I said “listeth” a lot. (Which isn’t easy.) When I sat down, I felt horrible about all of it.
What was I thinking?
When I related my failure to David he said, “What was it about?” I said, “It was about how we came to earth to learn how to love and it how it takes practice. And it was about pancakes.” He said, “Sounds perfect.”
Only it wasn’t. Perfect, I mean. It probably wasn’t even passable. The only good thing to say about it is that probably people feel a lot better about themselves in comparison to me: Hey, it could be worse. We could be her. Now I’m just a knotted ball of regret and rumination. Which is the worst combination ever. Round and round and round you go, where it stops nobody knows.
Earlier in the week, I had a similar bout of the same toxic cocktail after Joy Club. What was I thinking? As I look back, I realize that I have given up worrying about everything except the basic and fundamental worry that something is wrong with me, that I don’t measure up, that I just really don’t have anything to offer.
But tonight, I can see that that deep-seated, underlying worry about my worth and capability is just as optional as any other worry. It is neither necessary or effective. It only robs me of my present joys
What if I decided not to worry about it anymore?
Yes, I’m a mess and yes, I mess up. I give talks about pancakes and say “listeth” too much and people wonder what in the world it all has to do with them. What is she thinking? No, I am not enough and I will always fall short, but what if it didn’t matter in the least. What if, in fact, that was exactly how it was supposed to be?
Well, then I’d have nothing to worry about.