I wonder why humans seem to always need something to worry about.

Perhaps it’s evolutionary.

If we’re not afraid of something or concerned about something, we’re worried about the fact that we’re not worried about something.

It’s like we can’t be comfortable in our own skin unless we’re uncomfortable about…something.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

Without the fear, we lack the intrinsic motivation to make change, to create something that we think is “better.”

But maybe there’s something else.

Maybe the beauty of living comes from learning to feel the fear, wherever it sits in the body.

Shoulders, head, stomach, skin. All of the above.

Being aware of it.

Then, sitting with it, like a friend with whom we are having a coffee.

Not judging, not trying to change it. Not trying to push it away.

Instead, listening to it, patiently, open-minded, accepting of whatever it is telling us at the moment. Then, later, internalizing what it may be teaching us. And taking the next step on the path of life, with it both beside and inside us.