Worry? Not about stuff I can't do a damn thing about. People get their panties all in a wad about hypotheticals that are beyond their control. What's the point of wasting all that energy perseverating on what might or should be? Personally I prefer to live in Danny Kay's "Everything is pickety poo" world. I can wake up in the morning, survey my tiny corner of the universe, and make some minor adjustments even though I realize that every change has a cause and effect beyond what I can sense. But what the hell. It's all a matter of choice, and I make mine, trying my damnest not to encroach on other people's freedoms. My choices aren't perfect. All I can do is the best I can. If I accept that I can enjoy life without carrying about the burden of guilt then I can survive in this one day I am given, and I can smile.
A lot of people today see everything from a political perspective: how they invest and sometimes lose their modest savings, the houses and cars the banks loan them at high interest and who's responsible when they go into default, how they greet people for the "holydays", the invention of unproveable conspiracy theories, the justification of the collateral damage caused by legalized crime .....generally people see things in black and white. It's all bullshit made up to camouflage the real motivator....that most folks want what they want. We're all guilty of it, so why not just be honest and claim the real reasons why we do what we do.. If we're atheists, we want everyone's approval and justification for killing God for everyone. If we lose our livelihood and can't put food on the family table, we turn in every direction to see who's to blame. Politics can't answer the hard questions. It's just an intellectual aphrodisiac of promises that are are never kept.
So here I sit on a freezing winter morning drinking the richest cup of deep roast java watching the squirrels and the chickadees battling over the mixed seed and suet. My nine year old gas guzzler is paid for and still humming like the day I drove it off the lot. Now after the passing through that lonely corridor of living in an empty nest, our family is growing again with the advent of the laughter of grandchildren. Plans are brewing of the planting of a country garden of wildflowers, Wisteria vines climbing heavenward on a rustic trellis, and a bed of magenta and lavender roses. It's really not so confining living the last third of our life on a fixed income. Somewhere along the way our needs became simpler. Memories of people lost along the way have become more golden then painful. And I can say without reservation that life, for as long as God grants it, has become "Pickety poo". The world beyond me is more than I can handle.