Trust30 – #25 – The Recipe (not) to Follow

I do not wish to expiate, but to live. My life is for itself and not for a spectacle. I much prefer that it should be of a lower strain, so it be genuine and equal, than that it should be glittering and unsteady. I wish it to be sound and sweet, and not to need diet and bleeding. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Think about the type of person you'd NEVER want to be 5 years from now. Write out your own personal recipe to prevent this from happening and commit to following it. "Thought is the seed of action."

(Author: Harley Schreiber)

I never planned on being the kind of person who worries. I used to look forward to each day with a kind of happy enthusiasm that lately seems to escape me. I had a conversation last night when I asked my wife if I was trying to take on too much, and she responded "You've already taken on too much." And then "I don't think there's anything I can do to help you not to worry and stress out so much." It's not a very healthy way to live, and the weight I've put on over the last year is probably due, at least in part, to worry.

A year ago, I was working in a job where I was desperately unhappy. We had anticipated some growth that didn't come, and I had been looking forward to a promotion that seemed ever further and further from my grasp. And in the course of that, it occurred to me that I wasn't all that crazy about the job in the first place, and that a promotion was not necessarily going to solve any of my problems.

And then I was invited to resign. In a way, it was the best thing that could have happened, because it broke me out of a rut. It's still not the way I wanted to get out. And my history with job hunting has not been the sort to really fill me with confidence that I'd be able to find something quickly – I'm not very good at it.

It's been a crazy year since then. Between FIP and the new day job, and my volunteer work, and the drive to write, and podcasting, and the time I spend in church functions, there is an awful lot on my plate. And I worry about it. I worry about my daughter and how we're going to get her into college. I worry about my family and how we're going to pay for things. I worry about my student loan debt.

I worry about my health. I worry that I'm not writing enough. I worry that I'm not getting any exercise and my already too large middle is getting even bigger. Yesterday as I was walking around work, my suspenders kept popping off my pants. That was a little mortifying. And I worried about it.

I worry about my day job, about my ability to do the things that are being asked of me. I worry about whether something's going to slip between the cracks, or if I'm going to give bad advice, or if I'm going to be asked to do something that I'm not comfortable with because I'm an attorney and attorneys are supposed to do X or Y.

I worry about FIP, and whether we'll ever be able to make it the kind of success I believe it can be.

I worry about my wife's happiness, and what I can do to help her out with her business. (She's a realtor. Anyone need to buy or sell property here in the Austin area?) I worry about not being able to provide a good living for the family.

I worry about us not having more than one child, and if there's something wrong with me.

I worry about the economy, about the direction the country is headed in, and that feeds back into the worry about how I'm going to be able to provide for my family.

I worry about my standing with God. Am I reading my scriptures? How's my prayer? Am I trying to do what's right? Am I succeeding?

Always something. There's always something new to worry about.

And I worry that I'll never be able to stop worrying.

If there's one thing I want to be in five years, it's the kind of person who does not worry. Who presses forward with faith and hope. Who looks on the bright side. If only I could stop worrying about whether or not that's possible…