What, me worry?

And then there’s the morning (this morning) when instead of awakening to take a deep belly breath and stretch your limbs and luxuriate in the softness of the flannel sheets against your skin and feel the warmth of the body next to you, you instead awaken to hear a mind already chattering with petty worry and negative thoughts: You have so much work to do today…and how much of that work really matters to you…and why aren’t you filling your hours with what does matter…and why did you read Martha Stewart Living last night instead of starting that book on prison reform you should be reading…and the garage is overflowing with returnable bottles…and how come this new blogsite you’ve been talking about for six months isn’t up yet…and oh, sweetie, just in case you momentarily forgot, you somehow (well, you know how) gained five pounds since Christmas.

Welcome to the Black Hole Zone.

Astronomically speaking, a black hole is a place in space where gravity pulls so much that even light can not get out.

Uh huh.

A place where no light can get out. Did you get that?

Have you been there? Of course you have.

What does one do to stop the chatter, to dig out of the hole? (Okay, I know you can’t dig yourself out of a Black Hole, but just stay with me.)

There’s the “count your blessings” approach. Yes, we all should, especially those of us who have so many. There’s a “daily affirmations” approach. Yes, positive self-talk is a good thing. You go, girl. Both of these strategies are lovely. But, for me, a little cheesy, a smidge bumperstickery.

There’s the “stop digging” approach. Here’s a turn-of-the-phrase truism I heard on the radio the other day: The best way to dig yourself out of a hole is to stop digging. I like that one. Translation: Just (don’t) do it.

I prefer either of these strategies:
1. The sweat it out approach. Brainless bliss in the exercise studio or on the forested hike or the long-distance bike ride. It quiets the mind and lifts the spirits.
2. The fake it ‘til you make it approach. Pretend you’re not worried. Turn that frown upside down. (Yes, you may groan.) Burst into song. You know which one. At some point, the pretense becomes real. I know that sounds psychologically problematic, but I’m pretty sure this is what Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is about. A nicer way of stating this approach is: Believe you can do it (transcend stupid worries, for example); act as if you are already doing it. And you end up doing it.

And you?