I was thinking about worry recently. I like this time of my life when I can let my mind drift where it may and ponder ideas and thoughts that I never had time for in the Before Times of job and bills and social activity and routines.
I'm not a worrier by nature anymore. I realized a long time ago now that it was a huge waste of time and that things had a way of righting themselves.
I had a life lesson in the form of an experience I had when I was in my late forties.
I lost a good position due to an enormous clash I had with my boss, the vice-president of an American Corporation. It was an ugly exit. He was an ex-marine and ran the Canadian division with military precision, making outrageous demands on the staff which resulted in him being a hero for maximizing profits based on unpaid labour. I was the Canadian controller of the firm. We did not see eye to eye on just about anything.
The month before I had sold my townhouse in the suburbs and moved into a detached home in Toronto - small, but my dream home, right on the subway line with a good sized mortgage.
My exit was handled by our lawyers - that will tell you how acrimonious it was.
The relief I felt on leaving was enormous and my exit package was enough to carry me and expenses for about 4 months. But after some 5 or so years with this company, I knew good references would not be forthcoming.
So I sat in my new-to-me house, my dream home, and stewed and fretted, envisioning the foreclosure, wondering where I was going to live, maybe a rat-infested dingy basement apartment, as I slaved away somewhere equally dismal on minimum wage.
Six weeks into this enforced idleness, with very little responses to my resume sent hither and yon, worry and fear consuming me, I had a call out of the blue from the president of a Toronto company, right around the corner, saying he was shutting down his manufacturing facility within the year and he needed a controller to manage it for him, staff, finances, diplomacy.
I met him and he hired me immediately. So for a year I had this lovely position, my confidence was restored, there were two incomes coming in for a while and in meditation one morning, I resolved never to worry again.
Everything works out as it should. And the waste of that six weeks taught me a huge lesson in the uselessness of the word.
Right now, this minute, I could give you a list of things I could worry about health wise. Tests coming up, loss of appetite, skin troubles, and on and on I could go. But what's the point? It's not going to "fix" me at all and just make me sicker.
Often, we just need a kick in the old keister to wake us up and smell the coffee and turn around our own dyed in the wool behaviours.
If you worry, what do you worry about?
If not, have you ever and how did you change?