I stumbled across a really good article yesterday morning, written by a very bright guy. I liked it for a number of reasons. For starters, it was measured and it unfolded in a clear fashion. The title caught my attention but its true theme snuck up slowly but surely, making the title just a foreshadow of its depth. As anyone who is reading this knows, I have always liked to read and retirement has given me much more flexibility. While the internet drowns in all sorts of garbage, without a lot of difficulty I can find fascinating pieces that address my many interests (hopefully with the side benefit of staving off early onset dementia!). Well, this particular article touched on a wide range of disciplines, including politics, economics, science, history and psychology. I found it in a generally respected journal that puts out quarterly reviews. On a pretty consistent basis, I search for this kind of thing, relying on a few aggregating sites to provide me with a well-rounded supply of links to news and analysis. I’d say I’m more than a little diligent in trying to do two things: (1) Get multiple perspectives on the issues of the day, without consigning myself to the bubbles that popularly characterize most current information gathering and (2) seek knowledge in many different disciplines, including the ones mentioned in this article and more. As one who is stimulated by learning, I set out with these principles as guides.

I have rarely mentioned particular articles in these blogs and would have to take the time to go back to see if that’s even happened. I have tried to steer away from politics and some issues that people find so divisive, instead choosing to address themes that I believe we should all consider in some fashion.

Which brings me to this one. When it popped into my mind to write about Worry, I was struck with the irony that I’d do so in the first week of January, with the acclaims of “Happy New Year!” still ringing soundly. The most common image during the passing over of one calendar year to the next is of the old, decrepit man, wounded and stumbling, being replaced by the fresh infant, alive, and a sign of hope. We do this like clockwork, lamenting all of the terrible things that have occurred over the last twelve months, yet looking forward to the next as “it has to be better.” Well, maybe not all of us do this but many do so.

This recent election, of course, represents the swinging of a pendulum with a not-small percentage of our population truly anxious or worse about what’s going to happen next. Coupled with everything else (while a not-small percentage of our population is more hopeful than they’ve been in a long time) a whole lot of people are on edge.

Which brings me to the true basis of the article and the theme for this blog.

The author had picked a well-known issue that some people (a relatively small number of Americans but a high number of some influential international leaders) are extremely worried about, some claiming that it’s the issue we should be MOST worried about. Instead of doing what some people do by saying that this or that thing is the MOST important thing, he covered a lot of ground by examining how we choose what to worry about and then how we address those worries. By a lot of ground, he hit on most of the threats to our well-being that exist out there. And, there are some truly big ones. At the risk of really being depressing, when you hit on the dangers of nuclear proliferation (increasingly controlled by unstable leaders and governments), the spreading threats from terrorists who have access to all kinds of weapons and strategies, climate change and other environmental concerns including species extinctions, the fragility of economies and the possibility of economic meltdowns, pandemics of drug-resistant strains compounded by nearly instantaneous global travel, the possibilities that nanotechnologies and/or artificial intelligence will overwhelm our humanity, asteroid impacts, the massive migrations of peoples, dropping fertility rates that threaten the stability of economies, families and cultures, changing value systems, and …   Well, you get the picture. It’s enough to make us want to go back to bed and pull the covers over our heads.

And, oh, did I mention the things that consume us with worry that don’t qualify as existential threats to humanity? Our kids. Our jobs. Our standard of living. Retirement. Our marriage. Our lack of a marriage or life partner. Poor schools. Health. Violence in our community. You pick it.

In a very erudite way, he talked about how to measure worry and then the need to balance our worries so as not to get caught up in some isolated feedback loop. Obviously, there’s more than enough big things to worry about but we need to forge ahead and recognize the danger of getting caught up in the worry de jour and marching out to tell everyone that they have to worry most about the exact same thing. As he smartly points out, it doesn’t work that way. We really have a choice to do one of two things and this is my characterization: We can run around screaming “The Sky is Falling,” as Chicken Littles or we can take a breath and pick the alternative.

As attractive an alternative it is to be Chicken Littles (dystopian imagery is everywhere and takes many forms as we seek outlets for our nightmares), there’s a better way.

As hard as it can be, we can choose the things we feel the need to worry about. While this is much easier said than done, it is a choice.

I’m sure I wrote about this awhile back. It might have been when I wrote about Hope. (As I do this writing, I don’t like to stop, but instead forge ahead with the thought so I apologize for not going back to check.) I remember reading about this really smart cosmologist astronomer who thinks about very big and deep things about the universe who was almost paralyzed with the worry that eventually (many billions of years from now when the whole universe could end up being cold and dark) humanity would be wiped out. He saw it as inevitable and he’s probably right with a current scientific understanding of the universe. It made it difficult for him to get up in the morning. While this is an extreme example, many of us can relate to that kind of response to certain kinds of worry.

Ok, so yelling out warnings or responding with despondence is one direction. What is the other? What is meant by choosing what to worry about or choosing to set worry aside?

I’ve read some sage advice over the years (not that I’ve always taken it) that says we should only worry about the things over which we have control. So, let’s look at this for starters.

First, if we believe we are always supposed to be IN CONTROL, this can be a big problem. When we choose the path of rugged individualism and believe that our value is a derivative of what we feel and experience in the moment, that places us in a difficult situation. What alternative do we have to decry our predicament? When we feel that we need to be in control of our destiny yet are confronted by the obvious fact we’re not, we lash out. “If only I (or my current group of like-minded people) could get in control, I wouldn’t have to worry as much or anymore.”

Second, how do we pick and manage the things we believe we have some control over? That can still be a lot of stuff. But, at a minimum I know I can’t control asteroids or nuclear proliferation. In other words, at least we can begin to reorient our thought-lives so as to give up ownership of some of the beasts over which we really don’t exercise anything but the most miniscule influence. Now, the rebuttal to this says that we can ALL do something, even a little something, to help alleviate a problem. A good example is the environment. I can do my piece. I can buy a hybrid vehicle. Recycle. Vote for leaders who are against coal and other fossil fuels. Support international treaties by casting my vote for officials who think like me and trying to influence others to think like me. All of these things are reasonable but with a problem as complex as the environment, no solution is truly reassuring and there’s always more to do. (Should I stop flying which pours pollutants into the environment? Support wind energy that slaughters tens of thousands of birds, some of whom are protected? Buy batteries the manufacturing of which is terribly polluting?) Where does it all end?

Well, I can exercise some control over my health in that I watch what I eat and get some cardio in, maybe some weights. But, then, you always hear of people who do this getting cancer or dropping dead of a heart attack at a relatively young age.

I can love my kids, get them into decent schools, teach them right from wrong and all of that and then they go off and do something stupid, maybe even really stupid. Of course, there’s no correlation between good schooling and not doing stupid things. Most of us are good evidence of that!!

I can work hard at my job, conscientiously doing what is expected only to find myself laid off. I’ve seen it happen and despite my best efforts, I know it can happen to me.

Actually, I like this line of thinking a lot more than Chicken Little. At least, we’re narrowing the circumference. Sort of like tossing some things overboard in the lifeboat that are less necessary to survive, allowing us to move ahead with the workable stuff. We’re not standing up in the lifeboat, looking at the featureless horizon and shrieking “We’re all going to die!”

Yes, this is a workable strategy and in my opinion better than going down the road to either despondency or the realization that, eventually, we’re powerless to affect things that cause major worries.

The best way I’ve found this to work is to talk about the things that worry me with others who know me well and with whom I share a reasonably common set of values. By sharing and listening to others share, we gain perspective while also having the chance to prioritize and problem solve. This, of course, requires strong relationships built on trust where we give time and opportunity to live our lives in close community. Social media is not the answer, I’m afraid. While these kinds of relationships don’t erase cause for worry, I’ve found they reduce the tendency to unrealistically perseverate.

None of this is to suggest there are not big things that are happening in our lives right now that any reasonable person will worry about. Things that cause intense pain, either physical or emotional or both. But, having a community within which that pain can be processed is a very strong antidote.

Over coffee and discussion this morning, my good friend, Gary, reminded me of one of his favorite analogies. A simple story you might have heard and one of my favorites, too.

It goes something like this:

A man is walking down a long beach that is strewn with seemingly thousands of starfish. As he is considering the scope of what he sees, he observes another man, alone, who is carefully picking up single starfish and tossing them back into the sea. Puzzled, the first man approaches the second man and asks him how he can possibly think he is making a difference as the scope if far too great and his solution far too small. To which the second man replies as he tosses one more into the sea, “It makes a difference to that one.”

And that brings me to the more radical solutions, one of which I reject and the other to which I aspire.

I reject the fatalist who lives a life of abandonment. “Why should I worry? Nothing I do will make a difference. What will happen will happen. I will not be concerned about it. I am choosing not to care.” This line of thinking is seductively close to the next one I’ll raise but they are not the same. And the key is the nature of the abandonment. What and to what (or whom) are we abandoning? Connections in the world? A rejection that what is happening around us or to us or others is meaningless or an illusion? A rejection of the concept that I have a free will and can impact, to some extent, the world around me in a meaningful way?

The seduction here is in the belief that, in the end, we do not have purpose or meaning.

I can understand why this is compelling and has lured many. It is a reasonable alternative to the powerlessness we can feel when faced with so many threats.

And it’s those threats that are the bridge to the other radical solution.

Cutting away at all of the things we worry about, what lies at the center of each?

Is the threat to our physical safety or health? We’re all going to die. Do we fear loss of love? Isn’t all human love frail and fraught with pitfalls? Love is not equivalent with bliss. Do we fear loss of material wealth? What does that wealth provide for us? Food, Shelter, Clothing? Those are relatively easy to come by in very modest amounts these days … amounts that dwarf the common experience of people only a generation or two ago. What else does wealth provide? Security? Security from what? (See existential threats above.) Happiness? Nope. That’s been proven to be a fallacy. Experiences? Well, maybe but what kind of experiences? Anyway, we’ll lose our material wealth when we die. You can’t take it with you. Do we fear pain? Yes, most of fear pain, especially if it’s long lasting or permanent or very severe.

Full Disclosure: I worry about a lot of these things. I have an active mind, am engaged in the world, am inclined to be a problem solver and know more than a little about a number of things, some of which can easily drive me to worry.

So, it’s difficult for me not to worry. Sometimes very difficult. But, I have to say, I worry a lot less now than I used to.

You knew I’d get here. Matthew quotes Jesus in his chapter 6, verse 27: “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” And in 6:34: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” In between these two phrases, Jesus talks about how God looks out for us and cares for us in ways that are far greater than exist in this material life.

The person who does not share my beliefs may call me deluded. I may be criticized for manufacturing fantasies in order to assuage my well-grounded fears, by masking the realities with wishful thinking resting on the shakiest of foundations.

To which I answer, this reality is the only one I know now. While I do not understand it anywhere close to completely, I understand enough so that this rational mind is completely convinced.

Yes, I have died in order to be born. I never would have thought that possible in my wildest thinking. In fact, I thought it exceedingly foolish. It still sounds foolish but it’s not. And the reality is that there’s nothing I can do to escape the love and infinite favor our the God of all. Yes, I will suffer in this life and maybe greatly. Yes, I and others will face pain and calamities, some of which may be existential threats to our species.

One of the most powerful pieces of scripture is contained in the letter Paul (formerly the arch-enemy of the young Christian community) wrote to the church in Rome. We can make a choice to completely disbelieve what he says for all sorts of reasons. This is a man who suffered unbelievable pain and persecution. Beaten nearly to death multiple times, imprisoned repeatedly and eventually executed, probably by decapitation. In that letter he writes at the conclusion of Chapter 8, in verses 38 and 39: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither in height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

If God who Jesus describes is real (and you know where Diane and I and many others stand on that), then I need to get up each morning, thankful for the many gifts I have, thankful for the joys that abound, steeled to meet the suffering that surrounds me and all of us with a hand of kindness and compassion and with a resolve that is firm and unyielding. And to greet that day as it might be the last or maybe the first in thousands more, facts over which I lack any kind of control. To get my head to worry less and to get my heart to love more. I sometimes feel I fall back more than I move forward. But really looking backwards into my past, I see no comparison.

This is what I mean to get my head to worry less and my heart to love more: If we can awake each day, ready to enjoy even the smallest of things and to consider the kinds of specific things we can do, not to make the world a better place, but to make someone’s life better in this world, then we are leading with our hearts. We will always have things to worry about and we will always need to pay attention to the things that matter. We are in this world and currently bound to it. But, we are not of this world and by understanding the incredible implications of that, we can begin to get a healthy perspective on the real problem we have with worry.

Lord, we are flesh and blood, with active minds and hearts. We try to carve out a life for ourselves and others we care about that reduces anxiety and breeds hope. This is always hard and, sometimes, near impossible. We are daily confronted by challenges both small and large that can disturb or even overwhelm us. Help us to see them in perspective and we ask for the guidance and tools to respond appropriately. And, thank you for reminding us who is really in charge. Amen.