ALL ABOARD: If we worry, will the future change?

As of the last three weeks, there is a young buck living in my yard.

His presence gives new meaning to Truman’s line that “The buck stops here.”

Seeing this young buck move graciously and comfortably about the landscape, well aware of potential automotive interferences or moments of anxiousness, but seemingly ignoring and avoiding them, got me to thinking.

Do deer worry?

Seems to me that one can decipher whether a deer is concerned or alert or just plain hungry by its body language or by the positioning of the deer’s ears.

Does a doe do like me and worry about every little do re mi?

In his book “He Can Who Thinks He Can,” Orison Swett Marden suggests, “Worry is a shameful, loathsome disease.”

My coffee mate, retired Lt. Col. Jack Eskenazi, former bombardier and cruise control repairman, places a dollar bill on the walls of his merchant friends who worry about everything merchantary.

“Here’s a dollar. Let me put it on your wall. When you start to feel your worry coming on, call me and I’ll remind you that you’re all paid up, ’cuz there’s really nothing to worry about.”

Jack ought to know. He can drive all the way to Bellingham with his head down and doesn’t worry about it one bit.

One of my favorite authors is Raymond Charles Barker. “The Power of Decision,” Barker’s classic published

40 years ago, offers this thought provoker on page three:

“Troubles result when an unintelligent factor is introduced into a field of intelligent activity.

Worry is an unintelligent factor, as are fear, hate and resentment.

This list could include all the negatives known to man.

Here is the birth of the problem.

Worry is the gestation period during which a negative situation is produced by man’s thought and appears in his experience as a problem.”

Those preceding 65 words are a mind- full.

When was the last time you worried about something?

Why?

So what if gas prices suck?

So what if rice prices are boiling?

Why worry about what my neighbor does with his trees?

This morning I did that Ben Franklin thing.

No, not the thing with a kite, but the thing where Ben made a decision by dividing a piece of paper in halves, with a plus sign at the top of one side and a minus side at the top of the other.

Sort of a pros-and-cons ledger in the analysis of a problem or concern.

At the top of the page I asked this question: What good and what bad will it do for me to worry about this particular concern?

Guess what?

I had no entries on the plus side of the ledger.

Nada.

Zip.

Zero.

There was nothing good about worrying about any subject, any person or anything.

Oh my. What to do next?

Maybe I should call someone.

Surely they have something to worry about, even if I don’t.