Personal Note

 

Last week I coined the acronym, RAW, to stand for Really Advanced Worriers: those people who have spent their lives practicing and developing their skills at writing dramatic mental stories.

 

It takes time and patience, but RAWs can switch from drama to comedy.  I know; I’ve done it.  Well, at least my office manager laughs at my humor, and I definitely feel more light-hearted.

 

Creative Writing for RAWs

 

Some years ago, I called a dear friend of mine, Mary, to ask her advice. All I got was her answering machine, hour after hour.   Alarmed that this usually accessible person didn’t seem to be available, I called her best friend, Amy.  Together, we become more alarmed.  Both of us started making calls to mutual friends, asking if they had seen Mary.

 

 

We then started looking at sites she might be visiting: coffee shops, cafes, stores.  No Mary.

 

Tight-lipped, neither of us discussed our fears openly, but I know mine included accident, abduction, and even murder.  I suspect that Amy, because of the diligence of her search, had similar fears.

 

When Mary returned the next day from a relaxing weekend and was told of what had been going on, she asked us, plaintively, “Didn’t anybody imagine I might have met the love of my life, and we had gone off together?”
Nope, all we had were disaster scenarios.  Not a single upbeat one in the bunch.

 

Imagining danger in advance was probably healthy for our primitive ancestors, who had to be prepared for a host of life-threatening events.  It’s not so successful a tactic for us modern descendants.

 

To stop creating so much drama, do this:  next time you catch yourself becoming anxious over something in the future, jot down the details quickly. No need to be fancy, just something like this: “Son insists on taking dog to cabin with us this weekend.  Dog will get lost in woods, or be left at a gas station.  Son will be heartbroken.”

 

By Monday, your true RAW will have forgotten that dismal little scenario, and be on to constructing another one: “Husband’s sister coming for a visit.  House is messy.  She’ll be critical.”

 

So, on Monday morning, write the outcome next to the notes you have made, as the dog looks at you anxiously, begging for food or a walk.  Oh, yes, the dog survived the trip, you note.  And so did you.

 

Really good RAWs are great storytellers but terrible predictors of the future.

 

How about taking a minute (that you might have otherwise devoted to worrying about your sister-in-law’s visit) to jot down the pleasant details of your trip: the sunsets, the great food, the fun, the laughter?   Then have a good laugh at yourself