I used to worry about everything, including what people thought and whether I was awkward. I wasted a considerable amount of my life worrying about “the price of beef in China,” meaningless stuff. Looking back, you could say I was a control freak, because that is what worrying is about. Wanting to control life! Teenage angst turned into worrying in adulthood, then middle age, and then it dawned on me. Stuff happens. Worry does not change it. Did I stop worrying? No. I still worry about the staircase and falling, about forgetting where I left my keys, about whether I am getting forgetful in my old age, and about going into a care facility in the future.
I can tell myself there is no point in worrying; intellectually, I understand it.
I need to sit and meditate some more, so I can internalize it.
GrowingOlderHopeWiser 
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