Worry

“Why worry be happy” as the not-so-old song says.

I pretty much embraced this philosophy over the last few years.

I got to the age where I realized that none of my worries ever actually happened.

Wrestling with the thoughts of an outcome I could do absolutely nothing about seemed to be a useless occupation in my mind.

I used to worry a lot, you see. Worry about my kids, my relationships, money, my health, your health, your depression, my depression, the plumbing.

What a complete and utter waste of time when I could be knitting a pair of socks.

Or just being in the now, enjoying that pink sunset.

I was stealing precious time from myself, and all the worry in the world wouldn’t get me the desired result of anything I was worrying about.

So I virtually abandoned it. Worry that is.

Life will run its course with or without me.

I’ve never been in charge.

Which is all in the way of saying: I had my appointment with the eye surgeon. And it was a classic good news and bad news scenario.

The bad news was I have hypertension in my eyeballs which can lead to glaucoma.

The good news is that I have extraordinarily thick corneas which research has shown prevent the development of glaucoma. So no immediate surgery or medication.

I am scheduled for more tests in the hospital about six months from now.

And seriously, I didn’t worry.

And thank you all for the show of hands and hearts.