I know, I know, don’t worry
Over dinner, a friend from college and I had a good laugh about what talented catastrophizers we both are. Give either of us a little bit of information and we can create a fully fleshed out worst case scenario in seconds flat. We had to “jinx” each other when we blurted out at the same time, “Don’t you think it’s better to be prepared?”
Maybe? But, honestly, being prepared like that is exhausting.
Even more exhausting is the fact that you know better. After all, how many times have you felt beat over the head by an author or refrigerator magnet or singer because you’re “worrying your life away” or need to remember that “there is no time like the present” or that if you had “no worries” you’d “be happy?”
Nevertheless, life happens and we – under the guise of planning, researching, and bracing ourselves to withstand the worse – worry.
By worrying we miss out on the present moment
More persuasive than any of the above sources of wisdom, for me, has been yoga philosophy in general and The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali in particular. The third of Patanjali’s ten moral guidelines is non-stealing (asteya). I’m going start by telling you what I tell my students: the fact that you’re sitting here reading an essay on drawing yoga into your daily life indicates to me that it is not likely that you’re going to lean over and swipe someone’s towel off their yoga mat. Which is all to say, I’m pretty sure you know better than to take someone else’s stuff.
Good for you.
If you, like me, at times fall prey to catastrophizing and worry, it is much more compelling to ponder the ways that we steal from ourselves. Worrying, say the yogis, is a big way that we do this.
When we are worrying, we are stealing from ourselves a full experience of the present moment. We have allowed our minds to wander off into the past or out into the future to mull over something that we wish we could change or control or eradicate. While we’re mulling, however, life is happening and we’re missing it.
And, suddenly, I, self-aware and yet somehow still a worrier, feel beaten over the head yet again. Thanks, Patanjali.
What if the present moment could help us pause our worrying?
But what if we flipped the equation? What if the present moment wasn’t something to feel bad about because we missed out on it because we were worrying but was a tool we could use to get a little space and freedom from our worries? Suddenly this feels less like a hammer and more like an invitation.
Here’s how I can imagine it working. Imagine that you’ve had a little news earlier today and you can feel your “worry muscles” starting to flex into action. Could you stand up and look out the window and deliberately let your eyes linger every time you notice something beautiful? Or could you sit on the floor with your dog or cat and pay attention to how happy they are that you are paying attention to them? Or could you make yourself a cup of tea relishing every step along the way – the sound of the hot water pouring into your cup, the feel of the warm ceramic in your hands, the gingery or lemony or floral flavor as it fills your mouth?
How lovely right? Rather than using the present moment as more evidence that you are failing to live life the “right way,” you can give it to your worn-out heart and mind as a “feel better soon” gift. The present moment – especially one you choose for yourself – is tremendously engaging. It can be a powerful distraction from the tempting habit of worrying.
The fact that, for the moment that you’re in the moment, you are no longer stealing from yourself will probably feel incidental when compared to the little shot of peace of mind that you just gave yourself.
P.S. Every one of Patanjali’s moral guidelines (the yamas) comes with a promise. The promise of non-stealing (asteya as described in YS 2.37) is that when we are firmly rooted in non-stealing, all “riches” or “gems” will flow our way. Seriously, can you think of a better “gem” than more peace of mind? From one worrier to another, I sure can’t!