Dear Worry, Thank You

A few days ago I wrote about my level of worry as a mother of 2 young toddlers. I wanted to follow up with a post that was in my drafts since March of last year that I never published. When COVID first started to rear its head, I wrote of one of the biggest worry storms I’ve ever had.

I titled it “A Worry Storm to Peace.” While this storm was uncomfortable, below is what I wrote after it had passed. During this worry storm, I journaled for almost 4 hours straight. All the what if’s… all the doubts…all the fears… of this thing coming I had no idea how to protect my family from.

For me I find a sense of peace in learning about what drives my worry. There is mental peace in shining a light to the darkness, analyzing it, digging up the fear and looking into it and saying, “what’s the worst that could happen?” “Okay, let’s try to prepare for that.” And in being prepared, taking action, that reduces the anxiety from the worry. Knowing “I’m doing the best I can.”

…

Last night I worried myself into the equivalent of a mental storm. Clouds of grey, rain, wind, and lightning began to fill my mind.

I could feel the dark grey clouds slowly moving in. The winds started to pick up and the rain began to pour.
But I couldn’t stop it. And I desperately wanted to.

…

I couldn’t stop the storm and I’ve had lots of practice. Practice controlling my mind through mindfulness, mediation, and a path of self-evolution that has lead me to a place of expansion and love.

But this storm of worry felt so heavy and hard to manage. It came from a place I’ve always been uncomfortable feeling. Fear. Sadness.

Feeling fear. Feeling sadness. Then ashamed, ashamed I couldn’t control this storm. Embarrassed of being human. It’s so human right? To feel.

To really feel, to be vulnerable. It’s part of what makes us amazing. The ability to feel, to care. To love. And with love comes worry.

And yet, many times, we don’t allow ourselves to embrace it. To find comfort in it. Because we find it uncomfortable.

Uncomforted in the unknown. What is in the darkness? Like a child being afraid of the dark. Because that is where we’ve learned many bad things happen. In the unknown, in the darkness.

And it’s a simple fact. It’s instinctual. To worry about the unknown in order to survive.

I’m learning to find comfort in my storms. I’m evolving to be comfortable in darkness. And looking back at this last storm, I want to say thank you.

Thank you for coming to me. To evolving me. To creating space for me to grow. Thank you for forcing me to consolidate my thoughts and releasing my stress from my mind and my body.

There can be comfort in a worry storm, if you let it pass while observing it. Analyzing it. Making sense of it. Taking action to grow from it. Instead of running from it. Learn from it. For me, without the clouds, without the worry. I wouldn’t take action. I wouldn’t feel prepared.

So thank you fear for being uncomfortable, for calling attention to yourself, for guiding me on where to focus.

Because at the end of the day, you come from love. Simply put, I worry because I love.

So…

“Dear worry, thank you. Thank you because you allow me to love. “

…

My steps to calming a worry storm

Analyze: Write out what is worrying you. Analyze it, really dig into it. How do you feel about it? What are you most scared of? What’s the worst that could happen?
Categorize: Define what is within your control, and what is not.
Prepare: Create a list of actionable steps for the things within your control.
Let go: Let go of the things outside of your control. Don’t give these things anymore of your attention.
Connect: Talk to someone you love about it.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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