Why Worrying Doesn't Help

I am not generally a worrier, having been blessed by having been born without the "worry gene", which I've blogged about before. Nevertheless, it does get to me sometimes... I am due to have an operation on my left foot in early December to correct some deformity in my toes, which has been caused by arthritis. And I catch myself worrying about it every day. What if it goes wrong? What if the anaesthetic wears off befoe they've finished (to my horror, it's being done under a local anaesthetic rather than a general one. And yes, I understand that it will be better for me not to be knocked out, but urgh...) What if it doesn't make a good difference? What if I'm left off worse than before? What if I can't do things I can do now - like hill climbing etc? In short, a whole platoon of "what ifs" is haunting my mind, making me fretful. And I don't like it, not one little bit.

So it was good to read the wise advice of the Greek Stoic philosopher, Epictetus: "There is only one way to happiness, and that is to stop worrying about things that are beyond our control." [And I've just had a small moment of joy when I looked him up on Wikipedia: he was born in Hierapolis, Phrygia, which is now known at Pamukkale in Western Turkey. There is a World Heritage site there, an area of glorious travertine terraces which also features hot springs) and my husband and I visited them in 2013. They were astonishingly beautiful see below].

(image: Wikimedia Commons)

So, thanks to the nudge from Epictetus, I am going to try to stop worrying. It is making me miserable and will make no difference whatsoever to the outcome of the operation. 

In fact, there are very few outside events that are within our control as human beings. I believe that the only thing we are able to control is our reaction to our worries... we can allow them to take us over, removing all the joy from our lives, or we can choose to tell ourselves, "Nope, can't do anything about that. But I can let it go. I can choose to not let it get to me. I can choose to bring myself back to the present moment, the present pain, the present pleasure, and not lose myself in dark imaginings."

I appreciate that this is difficult advice for us to take, and may well be impossible for those who suffer from real anxiety, who may find it both irritating and laughable. If this is you, my reader, I apologise.

But I don't. So I'm going to try...