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May 25, 2012

I was an anxious child. I worried about multiplication tests and piano recitals. I worried about Paige Williams who inexplicably announced she was going to beat me up after school every morning, then didn’t. I worried that the car would run out of gas, the restaurant would not be able to seat us, the routine doctor’s visit would include an injection, and (this is a fact) that the Milky Way is on a collision course with Andromeda. Other kids were having fun but I knew better.

Then I grew up. And I figured out anxiety was a choice I was making. Worry didn’t make bad things less likely to happen; it didn’t even mean bad things were necessarily bad. It was just a habit and I could change it.

Nothing comes from nothing. Imagine someone who lives in expectation that his worst fears will be realized in every situation? Why? What happened to this person? How is this affecting his life? His choices? His parenting? His ability to love? What did he lose and when? What is he worried about today? What risk will he avoid taking? Will he change? Will he rise to the occasion? What happens that is totally unpredictable? (You can’t know that yet. Just write.)


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