No worries. 

I’ve written it, said it, texted it. And I’m being honest when I say I can’t remember saying it without meaning it, at least, not in recent history. But something else happened recently. I heard someone say it, and their face betrayed them. As the words, no worries, came out of their mouth, there was worry all over their face. Maybe they were trying to convince me. Maybe they were trying to convince themself. But I think it was the first time I paired the expression with the possibility that there might be a lot of worry involved.

Just because we say there are no worries doesn’t mean there are none.

Just because we don’t want there to be no worries doesn’t mean there are none. 

So, there’s tension between what we want and what there is. And we have options.

We can lie to ourselves and others. That doesn’t change reality. I suppose every now and then we begin to believe the lies we’re telling ourselves, but, more often than not, we just feel the tension of straddling the gap—with one foot on the truth and the other foot on the deception we’re trying to keep up for everyone else. The gap widens, and we can’t stay in the splits for long.

We can sit in the worry. It can be comfortable when we’ve grown used to it. I don’t recommend this approach, but I know plenty of people who firmly believe in it. Not that they would admit it. They might not even see it, or they think they are victims in it. They’ll give their rationalizations and woes are me. In the most serious of cases, the people around them will not only excuse their behavior but equip them and even egg them on at times. Because the worry serves them as well. Even when logic tells us worry is unhealthy, it can feel like a cozy blanket that seems to grow as others snuggle under it with us. Why not share the warmth? Codependency comes in multiple forms.

We can deal with the worry and move toward the “no worries.” We might not get all the way there, but maybe we’ll get to “almost no worries.” But it takes practice. We need coping strategies and practice. It’s like exercising our muscles. We have to recognize worry when it creeps in, not just when it’s overwhelming. We have to weed when worry sprouts, not when it chokes out the healthy, beautiful flowers around it. We have to be honest enough to call it what it is and deal with it in the quiet and in the chaos. 

Whatever we choose, we should be honest, and we should be willing to grow and do better. Of course, being honest must come first. In everything. There is no growth without honesty. We must know where we begin. I’ve done it several ways, and I’m telling you—honest reflection is best. It takes some humility and building trustworthy relationships with people who will hold you accountability in the most loving ways—often with some laughs along the way. Growth doesn’t have to be a chore or a bore. It’s hard anyway, so why not involve some people that make it just a little bit more fun? Why not find a way to infuse it with a little bit of entertainment yourself? Don’t take yourself too seriously. Do you feel like a failure because you worried too much today? Own it and change what you can about it, move on and determine to do better tomorrow.

And maybe we could start a few other phrases, like…

Some worries.

A pinch of worries.

Some back pocket worries.

Maybe or maybe not worries.

Or simply—I’d like to say no worries, but honestly, I’m just not sure if that’s true!

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