“Worry never robs tomor­row of its sor­row, it only saps today of its joy.” ~ Leo F. Buscaglia

Don’t worry, be happy.

How’s that for a phi­los­o­phy on life.  Four sim­ple words, one pro­found statement.

This all started when we talked about fear a cou­ple of weeks ago.  One thing that was a re-occurring theme was the idea behind fear and that it is often­times rooted in worry.  Then, Jen­nifer reminded me of this song by Bobby McFer­rin.  And, lis­ten­ing to this song — and the sim­ple words and actions that go along with it — made me think about worry in our lives today.

Do you worry?  About your health?  About the safety of your chil­dren?  About your next pay­check?  About your rela­tion­ships?  About your job?  I could go on and on.  Worry.  We, as a whole, can (and do) worry about pretty much every­thing.  The econ­omy is strug­gling.  There is much unrest in many parts of the world.  Our streets are rich with crime.  Despite mod­ern med­ical advances, sick­ness and dis­ease still per­me­ate our neigh­bor­hoods.  There’s enough out there to keep us wor­ry­ing con­stantly.  And that’s with­out all of our own very per­sonal and indi­vid­ual problems.

Some worry is hard to avoid.  Wor­ry­ing about a spouse, a child, another loved one — for instance.  These are wor­ries out of love.  These are dif­fi­cult wor­ries to over­come.  Because they are rooted in love.  Some wor­ries, though, are just idle worries.

What, exactly, does worry get us?  Think about it for a minute.  What good comes from worry?  Idle worry. Super­fi­cial worry.  Worry with­out any action.  Does this do any good?  Does sit­ting around, wor­ry­ing — will I have a job tomor­row — does that do you any good?  No.  Or how about wor­ry­ing about — did I pass that test? — does that do any good?  No.  It only “…saps today of its joy.”, as Leo Buscaglia says.

So, what do you choose today?  What do you choose the next time that “thing” arises that puts uncer­tainty into your life — and you are ready to retreat into your world of worry?  The choice is yours.  You can choose to worry.  Or.  Or you can choose to act.  To do something.

“We spend pre­cious hours fear­ing the inevitable. It would be wise to use that time ador­ing our fam­i­lies, cher­ish­ing our friends, and liv­ing our lives.” ~ Maya Angelou

The inevitable.  Some things we just can’t con­trol.  So, aren’t we bet­ter off push­ing worry aside?  And liv­ing our lives.  There will be good in our lives.  And there will be some bad in our lives.  Wor­ry­ing about any of this is not going to change this fact.  What can change these facts are actions, by us.

Today.  You have a choice.  You can choose to worry when life con­fronts you with it’s chal­lenges.  Or you can choose to live your life.  Tak­ing care of what you do have con­trol over.  Your­self.  Your actions.

What do you choose?

Don’t worry, be happy…

photo credit: Mrs Magic

“One would give gen­er­ous alms if one had the eyes to see the beauty of a cupped receiv­ing hand.” ~ Johann Wolf­gang von Goethe

Today, I’d like to talk to you about the den­tist.  Hmm…you say, “How does that relate to the cookie?”.

Today, I’d like to tell you about my den­tist.  And that does relate to the cookie!

What thoughts does vis­it­ing the den­tist con­jure up?  Pain.  Funny smells.  Pok­ing.  Prod­ding.  Drills.  More pain…

When I think of the den­tist, my first thought is always cook­ies!  You see, when­ever I visit the den­tist, I know that when I fin­ish I will get a great big, freshly-baked cookie.  Does this seem strange?  I used to think so.  Now, I think it’s one of the smartest things this den­tist does.  Sit­ting in the lobby is a big plate of cook­ies.  And not cook­ies from a box, but freshly-made cook­ies!  Deli­cious!  I always take one on my way out.  A warm cookie leaves me with a smile as I head out the door…

You might think that cook­ies would go against every­thing that den­tists stand for — adding more sugar to our mouths.  Or maybe you think that the den­tist sees this as a way to drum up new busi­ness — more sugar means more cavities!

Like a child pick­ing some­thing from the prize vault, these cook­ies are a way to give a lit­tle treat to every­one who passes through the office.  A fire­place in the lobby, a sofa to sit on while you wait for your appoint­ment, and cook­ies on the table.  You might say I’m pay­ing for these “lux­u­ries”.  And maybe I am.  And maybe I’m not.  I don’t think it mat­ters.  What mat­ters is the ges­ture of feel­ing “at home”, the ges­ture of feel­ing that this isn’t just about pok­ing at my teeth, the ges­ture of giv­ing a lit­tle some­thing back.

A plate of cookies…such a sim­ple way to give to others.

What do you think I will remem­ber more?  The cookie they offer every time I visit, or if they told me I would be see­ing a dis­count of $1 on all my future bills?  I’ll remem­ber the cookie.  It’s more per­sonal.  I can con­nect more with the cookie, and what it represents.

How about you.  Have you had “cook­ies” in your life?  What are those small things you’ve received that really mean more than just what that item is?

This is also a reminder to us all.  A reminder that it’s the lit­tle things we do for oth­ers that make huge dif­fer­ences.  I chal­lenge you today to go out and find some new way to make a small dif­fer­ence in someone’s life.  In the shad­ows of life we face, be a light for oth­ers!  YOU can make a difference!