It’s been said that worry is praying for what you don’t want to happen. If there is any truth at all in the Law of Attraction, this sentence should be read and reread.
So, why do we worry? Because we care so much, because we are fearful creatures by nature, because we want to be in control of what happens.
My paternal grandmother was a self-professed worrier. “Grace is a worrier,” we all said. It became her story. And the whole family worried about her being a worrier. She never drove a car in her life—said she hadn’t the inclination to learn. But I’ll bet the idea of driving worried her so much that being dependent on others was a lesser evil than taking the wheel. In retrospect, her life seemed to be lived in a place full of boundaries, so much so that I wonder what was held back; what was stifled.
So besides the somewhat scary Law of Attraction idea that worry has the power to manifest the very thing you’re afraid will happen, what else does worry do inside the body and soul? It steals peace and drains precious energy. It creates suffering.
Byron Katie, bestseller author and one of my gurus from afar, says that there are three kinds of business: God’s business, other people’s business, and your business. If we are anywhere mentally but in our own business, we are inviting worry, i.e. suffering.
Let’s say that I am “worried sick” about a niece. I see the repercussions of her choices beginning to play out in ways that can only lead to regret—according to my mind. When I think about her and what could have been in her young life, my shoulders get tight and my heart feels heavy. On closer examination, however, my worries are complete projections. Who am I to say what she needs to experience to become the person she is destined to be? Who am I to judge her, and be so arrogant as to feel I know what she wants and needs in life? My role is not to pull her out of the ditch and up into a place that I feel is right for her. All I can do is listen if she reaches out to me, and to pray for her highest good. My worry in this case is a lack of faith in her ability to move down her own path, the one where she might learn lessons of growth and expansion. And, my worry has the potential to hurt not only my relationship with her, but myself.
What has worked wonders for me is a simple prayer such as, “Lord, help me see this person/this situation through eyes of love instead of fear.” This simple prayer shifts something. It stokes my faith. So when the person I’ve been worrying about does call, my vibe will be one that serves us both. In the Southern religious traditions of my childhood, this is called, “turning it over to the Lord.” Same blessed thing.
Maybe faith is putting down the oars and relaxing into what is, rather than rowing like mad against the current. Or perhaps it could be as easy as walking through an open door.