The more you worry about things the more you realise a lot of those things are not worth worrying about.
Call it a slightly imprecise way of filtering alarm, or prioritising concern, or just trying to keep a lid on things.
But it’s handy to remember laying awake at night worrying about whatever.
Of course it’s counter balanced by the idea that the more you don’t worry about some things, the more you realise some of those things might have been worth worrying about.
Negotiating this roundabout of worry can be a lifelong journey often achieved only at the death, so to speak, and hopefully not by the death. Having said that, if you’re dead, it’s not going to worry you much.
But let’s not worry about that now. Let’s worry about whatever it was you were laying awake the other night worrying about, and why it’s not worth it.
It might be the finances, it might be the health, it might be why the bloody hell council has plopped a tree out the front of your house.
To be fair, councils are excellent at generating worry, particularly when you consider it’s our rates that pay their wages.
But putting aside light rail and supercars, and the Laman Street figs yada yada – so long as the garbage gets picked up and potholes filled in, you try not to worry. But then council goes and plants trees out the front of every house in our street after a brief one-way consultation about greening our neighbourhood, and the worry is back on.
Now I’m pro-tree, but any objective assessment would conclude that apart from narrow streets (probably authorised by council), our neighbourhood is characterised by trees.
Bushland appeal is a major reason why we there. Lack of trees is not the issue. The plonking of new ones out the front of every house, where we used to park our cars because the streets are so narrow, is.
And not just fluffly little deciduous trees that will shed their leaves in winter and allow the sun in. No, mighty evergreens with projected canopy spans of 8 metres that will shadow every conversation through the cooler months.
The consultation process was a bit of a worry too. Characterised by a letter from the council announcing the trees were going to be planted. And then a couple of emails about how we objected to them being placed out the front of the house but happy to have them out the back.
And then those objections ignored and the trees planted in a blitz reminiscent of the day brown bombers swept through our neighbourhood and issued parking tickets to all the cars parked on the front lawns of the street because the streets are so narrow.
In retrospect we now suspect it was to clear the lawns so they could plant the trees. Of course the whole process has resulted in clogging up the already narrow streets with parked cars. But that’s another worry.
Ultimately, if you can’t control it, the roundabout of worry ain’t worth worrying about.