For the purpose of providing perspective to my interest in this topic, I shall begin this essay with a paragraph that also appears in my paper, "Everything Gets Resolved:" When I was a child, my paternal grandparents and I were very close. My grandmother was a kind of family hub; she strove to know everything that was going on among all her family members. And she tried to control them all. I learned at a very early age that she was a worrier. If anyone was sick or if anything was amiss in our household or in her daughter's (my aunt's) household, she learned about it very quickly, because she telephoned both our homes very frequently - several times a day. In addition, my uncle-in-law informed me, my aunt called her mother at least as frequently. So despite the constant contacts, my grandmother worried even when everything seemed okay. For example, when I was an infant, she worried that someone with the evil eye would look upon me and do harm to me. So she bathed me in my urine to protect me. She encouraged my mother to hang garlic around my neck to protect me from all sorts of ills and harms, but she still worried.

            In my preadolescent youth, I came to the conclusion within myself that she enjoyed worrying, because it seemed to animate her and occupied a great deal of her time; so I tried to create worrisome news that would give her more to obsess about. During my late teens, I grew curious and wondered what worrying did for her, since the worry itself did not seem to solve any problems. As a young adult, I came to the conclusion that worrying accomplished nothing more than create persistent aggravated agitation which spread from the worrier to all those with whom she came into contact. So I explored alternatives to worrying, which I perceived to be a kind of persistent inner irritation and fruitless expenditure of energy brought on by a pertinacious image of potential harm.

            The American Heritage Dictionary defines worry, in part, as "to feel uneasy about some uncertain or threatening matter; be troubled ... mental uneasiness or anxiety." The word derives from an Indo-European root meaning "to turn" or "to bend," and more directly from Germanic and Old English words meaning "to strangle."

            Worry does not mean the same as concern. One can be concerned about someone or something without worrying about s/he or it. Concern seems to me to represent a sincere interest in a matter, such that one would attend to that matter if necessary and possible. The dictionary defines concern as "a matter that relates to or affects one; something of interest or importance." As a verb, concern means "to pertain or relate to; be of interest or importance to; affect." Another definition of the verb tends to make it a synonym for worry, "to cause anxiety or uneasiness in; to trouble." For purposes of differentiation, I do not include this latter definition in my discussion. The word, concern, originates from Indo-European and Latin roots meaning "to sift, separate." The words certain, discern, decree, and secret have the same roots. Worry appears to have agitating, irritating and anxiety producing characteristics, while concern has to do with interest-arousal and has a calmer, more discriminating quality.

            After examining the idea of worry, its disquieting and foreboding effects, and its ineffectualness, I came to a conclusion for myself and for the way I would conduct my life when an issue concerned me. I made the conscious decision that when such matters arose, I would examine them carefully and evaluate whether I could do something about them or not. If - using my best judgment - an action to ameliorate the situation seemed possible, I would undertake it and thereby resolve whatever might otherwise be worrisome. Consequently, it would not be necessary to keep mulling that issue over and over in my mind. If, on the other hand, I could not imagine what might be done to resolve the issue under concern, I would do my utmost to let go of it and hand the problem over to God, Nature, Higher Power, or whatever you choose to call the Ultimate Creator. This was not easy at first, but when I truly realized that I do not have control over all things, it actually became possible to let go of problematic issues for which I could find no solution.

            If bathing me in my urine and hanging garlic around my neck truly protected me against harm, my grandmother had no reason to worry. But, I guess she was uncertain that they were foolproof means of warding off evil. Thus, it seems that worrying is autogenous -- an act that is autonomous in origin and independent of pragmatics or rationality. It takes over one's life and eats up energy. Other than doing her motherly and wifely duties and reading the newspaper, my grandmother had little else to occupy her time. It seems to me that worry was her passion, second to preparing and consuming food.

            I have often pondered this question: if we do not choose a passion, does passion choose us? Surely the life force demands more from us than simple existence. I have noticed among my clients and acquaintances that when they have not chosen a hobby, occupation, or activity in which they are passionately involved, mental and/or physical irregularities arise that demand attention and create inner - usually unwanted -- disturbances.

            It seems to me that there is a basic similarity between hypochondriacal dedication to learning about physiological disorders, a musician's (or any other artist's) dedication to learning and applying his/her art, an obsessive-compulsive person's attachment to an act or issue, and a researcher's preoccupation with the subject of his/her research. All of these have to do with involvement. Any insistent repetitive activity can be interpreted as an addiction, but it can also mean passionate involvement. The difference between them seems to me to be recognized by their concomitants: addiction is associated with anxiety and heightened stress on the body, while truly passionate activity is joyful and reduces stress on the body. Addiction sooner or later brings depression, joylessness and "unhappiness," while passionate involvement is stimulating, elating and allied with joy and "happiness."

            Worry has the qualities of the obsessive form of involvement. I find it difficult to imagine Mozart composing his symphonies, Rembrandt painting his ceiling, Locke pondering on reality, Madam Curie working in her laboratory, Luther Burbank breeding plants, etc., any of them doing "their thing," or "following their bliss" and worrying about anything. They would be too busy and too involved in their interest!