The walk of worry
This morning, as I walked around the 3-mile circle that encloses our neighborhood, I had a realization that while my body was stretching and relaxing while I moved, my mind was bound up in knots of worry. I spend most of my time with my mind knotted up.
What startles me is how subtle it is. I know we’re all gifted with different levels of mental clarity, and my mind isn’t extraordinarily clear sometimes. But I am surprised at this because I work hard on these things. I meditate, I write, and I try to be present in my body. These worries, however, have remained — hanging out in my head, raising my blood pressure and interfering with my life.
This might sound silly, but I started going through each of my worries. What else did I have to occupy me halfway through a 3-mile walk? I thought that I might as well. As each one came up, I told myself “I don’t need to worry about that.” And I added a reason, such as “That’s way off in the future — I’m not even sure that it will be a problem” or “She’s going to be OK — she’s far more resilient than even I know.”
I know that our self talk deeply influences how we go through our day, affects how we see our own creativity, and even colors the fundamental ways in which we view the world. I’ve been paying more attention to mine as I walk, as I sit in the studio, and as I go about my day at work. I don’t like what I hear going on in my own head, and today I started changing it.
My very best,
Philip