A few years ago, I talked rather extensively about worry and concern. There is a difference between the two: worry is fear-thought, concern is fore-thought. 

Some people seem to be worrying most of the time. Here are some typical worries:

1. That this mole on my arm might be malignant

2. That my child or children might be kidnapped on their way to school

3. That an intruder might break in through an unlocked door

4. That a terrorist might set off an attack in my area, and so on.  Our worries are oftentimes not grounded in fact. 

For example, there was an old gentleman approaching his 100th year, and was nearing the end of his earthly tenure. His children and grandchildren gathered around him to ask about some wisdom from his life that he could share with them. 

Here is what he said: "Well, children, I'll tell you.  My life has been filled with many great misfortunes … most of  which never happened."

A man who worried a lot wondered why other people didn't seem to worry nearly as much as he did about such things as developing cancer or being in an airplane crash. He was not reassured by being told that the particular cancer he was worried about occurs once in 200,000 people, and that his chances of dying in an airplane crash were about one in 2 million. He insisted that with his luck, he would be that one.

The story goes that in prehistoric times there were two cousins and their families who lived in the same cave. Their names were Charlie and Bernie. Bernie was a worrier. He worried about whether the fire was going to go out, whether his son was going to return safely from the forest, whether that giant cat who ate the nearby neighbor was going to return, whether those mushrooms near their cave were poisonous, and so on.

Charlie, on the other hand, was more relaxed.  He figured the fire was not likely to go out unless everyone fell asleep at the same time, that his nephew was likely to come home safely from the forest as he always did, that the mushrooms looked very much like the ones they had been eating for years, and that the tiger that ate the neighbor appeared, at the most, once every 10 years.

And on a more humorous note, it seems that people sometimes make contradictory statements, like the mother who shouted to her son, "If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me." 

And the person who said, "If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, don't exaggerate." And this, "When that lawnmower cuts off your feet, don't come running to me." 

Of course, we all have some worries and concerns, but it might help if we remind ourselves we are only going to be in this earthly tenure for a short time, and that the happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything, they just make the best of what they have. 

We could all benefit by reaching out more to others. Happiness comes to those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can truly appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. 

Thank you for your love!