I’m sure I’ve written many blog posts about worry, but I’m not going to worry about that right now.
Last night, I saw this bumper sticker ….
… and I worried about what it meant.
Should we worry? Does worry do any good? I say that worry doesn’t help but I hear people insist that worry helps them plan and act.
My recent worries have included remembering to take my medication,
making sure the cats don’t get out and get eaten by coyotes,
and the world’s most sensitive dining room table (refinished once already in its short life and showing signs of distress after yesterday’s retreat).
Here’s my solution to the worry about the world’s most sensitive dining room table. I’m going to use that table the way I used my old, less sensitive dining room table, letting go of any worry about what might happen. If every-day use affects the table, I’m going to celebrate those changes. In other words, I’m looking at the table as a canvas — an ever-changing piece of art — that will record our enjoyment of it.
In the meantime, I’ll still
- remember to take my pills,
- try to prevent the cats from getting out, and
- enjoy the views along the way.
I don’t worry about reusing this Jacob Collier rendition of “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing”…
… or about getting comments on this post.
Thanks to all who helped me create this “Worry” post and — of course! — to you, no matter what your worries are.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 
I worry I can’t eliminate worry from my life. I’d like to not worry about a thing.
You and me both, Ruth. Let’s take a break from worry whenever we can.
Let’s!
I worry about forgetting about my morning and evening meds, also, Ann. My divided case sure does serve its purpose as a reminder … that I neglected to take a previous dose, that sits untaken in its slot when I go for the next one. Once a month or so …
And that sensitive tabletop of yours might appreciate a pretty tablecloth every now and then to save some wear and tear?
In any case, thanks for allowing me to share in the worry about Harley and Oscar getting out among the coyotes!
I did use a tablecloth yesterday, Mark. It was very pretty and perhaps a teensy bit too sheer for the World’s Most Sensitive Dining Room Table. In any case, thanks for sharing, as always!
Ann, as an 82 years old lady, I worry am I be able to finish telling my mother’s story to my dear blog friends before Alzheimer’s disease hits me!
I worry what graphic design will be for the ebook I dreamed.
I worry if all my readers would picture my story.
Ann, would you be interested to be one of my readers too? –The New Everlasting Blossoms–
I am following you — do not worry about that. Thank you for the visit and the comment!
I love the reframing of your worry about The Most Sensitive Dining Room Table in the World to a tapestry of shared meals, shared conversations, shared lives.
How beautiful to turn such worry into wisdom!
How beautifully wise and loving you are, Louise!
Ann, here’s one of my fave songs about not worrying! ♡
Diana xo
I don’t worry about you, Diana! xxoo ❤
I think worry is unproductive – unless you are a dog with a bone
Thanks for another productive comment, Derrick!
Good idea with your sensitive table, Ann 🙂
Have you thought about building a kind of big cage in your garden or up at one wall for your cats? Cats love to go outside and I do understand your worry for them. A kind of closed terrace could also do it, just remember a top too. Then you can let them outside sometimes.
Good idea, Irene!!
Thank you, Ann.
Alfred E. Neumann said “What, me worry?” and Terry Jones worried about the baggage retrieval system at Heathrow, among other things, and I worry that I’ll never accomplish anything, and that my concerns are so petty compared to others’ worries and that I talk about myself too much and I worry my comments are too long, but you set a wonderful example of going ahead, of finding a way through the worry.
Don’t worry, Chris. ❤
Hi Ann, maybe you could let your dining room table become “distressed”, and then you wouldn’t have to worry at all!!!
I de-stress and worry less when you’re around, SD!
I hope that the therapy retreat went well. Nobody could ask for a better setting. Did you also use the outdoor sunroom or gazebo? I am not sure what that is but it looks like a place for not worrying.
I often worry but I don’t worry about that. It is just how I am. Sometimes it makes think creatively and sometimes it just makes me crazy, but I think it always keeps me noticing people in a mostly helpful way.
Don’t worry, Maureen — we did use the gazebo.
I use Aussie parlance more and more … No worries ( mate and Sheila being optional). It really does shift my mood, even when I’m not in a boolabong!
Wishing no worries Sheila – Ann 😉
No worries, mate!
The table still looks beautiful. But who can gaze long at it when there is that view all around?
Love your views, Maureen!
Your table is so beautiful Ann- I love the edge of it. It is hard to let go of the worry of something new being marred- but in the end it is worth it I believe to just accept that the table will be used and lived on, and that will bring its own kind of beauty.
Thanks for bringing your own kind of beauty here, Lisa.
I worry at times about different things but I do not dwell on things and if I remind myself that worrying will not change what is I stop worrying
I like dwelling on the good sense in your comments, Joanne.
Daddy Van’s Beeswax and Lavender polish. Or maybe a table pad under the tablecloth. On the other hand, I like the idea of using the table as a canvas and accepting use will change it. As it does with all things, even marble steps.A good reason not to worry about a thing!
Thanks for your good reasoning, Lisa! No worries.
I worry. But I keep trying to tell myself, now, when I worry…that worrying does nothing to change anything. Yes. I still worry.
And the dining room table…..the one in my parents dining room, to this day, carries the signatures of homework papers, the equations of primary school math, and the aura of our youth. 🙂
Don’t worry, Colleen. You do so much good, every day.
THank you Ann.
I love your attitude about the table as a canvas, embracing its sensitivities as assets! I identify with the remembering meds challenge. I used to take a whole handful of meds and supplements at bedtime. Easy! Now I have a small handful in the morning, one pill at noon, a handful at dinner and 1 pill at bedtime. Yikes! Btw, good thing to keep cats from the clutches of coyotes. My mother’s cat disappeared 35 years ago in California, suspected of just such a fate. But, do you have coyotes by the bay?
I love your attitude, Sunny, and we do have coyotes by the bay.
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