Worry

I have been thinking lately about life and one's perspective of it. I have been struggling lately with my apparent inability to enjoy moments for any extended period of time, to breathe deep and just be grateful to be, rather than obsess about what is to come or not come and how it will cause me pain, discomfort, disappointment, etc.

I was thinking (this came to me as I was cleaning up dog poop in the backyard), that one's perspecive on life must be greatly effected by the person's life experiences. I mean, I've always known this, but I wondered if my relatively "perfect" life has contributed to my inability to appreciate what I have day to day, right in front of me. I did not lose a parent at a young age as my mother did, I did not experience strained relationships with loved ones like some friends that I know.

From a very young age, I have been a worrier. An over-thinker. It is something that I have struggled with my whole life. People have always been telling me "Stop thinking so much."  I have been trying to learn how to live in the moment. How to keep in mind that worrying about things or stressing about things often does little but cause stress and sometimes sadness. It's strange to find myself, at 34 years old, still trying to master this concept. When I have moments of light-heartedness, it's like a high. Much like when you have some type of physical pain and the pain meds kick in and you feel that relief.

My point (and frankly I'm not sure I have one), is that I know people who are going through completely crappy things right now in their lives and still, they often manage to say, even on a bad day, that essentially, this too shall pass.  I have always had a hard time remembering that too. Some people hold that optimism for a better day in their hands and hold it carefully and appreciatively, much like they do the nice, simple things in life that they do not take for granted. I do this with things that bother me. Again, I have been getting better at releasing the heavy stuff, but I still hold it there in my hand. I don't appreciate it. Why would I? I don't want it. Why would I?  But, it's there and I hold it and am not so good at letting it go in order to make room for the good stuff.

I'm sure much of this must be a habit; the worry and over-thinking have become a familiar foe, and while I don't enjoy them, I know them. I know them like the back of my hand. I know them like a song fed to me through my amniotic fluid in the womb. Like a twin.

For my next trick, I plan on trying to embrace the good things, even when I'm in a low place. Because my life? It's pretty good, and I know that. I appreciate it, but I struggle lately to feel that appreciation deep within me, in a true, real way that gives me happiness or at least some level of pleasure.   I know that starts with my mind-set. I hope I can learn how to do it.