Don't Worry, Be Happy

My fiancé is a worrier. I’m not. I have to laugh to myself about some of the things she gets nervous about. But it’s made me pause to wonder why we worry, and what consequences it has.

What causes us to worry? Whenever we are presented with an decision or activity that has some degree of risk, which is most activities, including merely existing, we do an internal audit of that risk. We assess the possibilities of negative results occurring, and weight those against the possible rewards. We estimate the probability of those negative results occurring, and then factor that in to the final decision. Once the choice is made, the margin of possibility from our assessment of a negative outcome determines how much we worry about it.

So why do we differ so greatly, person to person, in how much we worry? The simple answer is that we estimate the probabilities of risks differently. The way we estimate these probabilities is primarily through experience, and also through education. If our experience while growing up included an unfortunate outcome, we will internally expect similar outcomes at a higher probability than those who did not have that experience, no matter what the actual probability might be. The reason, obviously, is that the actual calculated probability from their subset of 1 was much higher.

Those who never experience certain issues have an experience probability of 0, increased only by their education of others who have had that experience. When we hear of others in similar situations that have had a negative outcome occur, that probability is suddenly no longer 0. Between you and them, it is not quite 50%, since your personal experience is weighed heavier than others’ experience. But the more experiences you learn of, the more refined your estimated probability becomes. The experiences of those close to you often hold greater weight because you measure their situation to be close to yours (i.e. they live in the same neighborhood, they’re about the same age, you share genetics, etc.). You will naturally piece together all the information you’ve collected personally as well as the experiences of others to try to refine that probability of negative outcomes for your exact situation.

More differences can arise from your personal weighting system, how much weight you give to certain aspects of yourself in affecting the risk of a certain outcome. For example, one might consider wealth a higher factor for the probability of getting robbed, while another considers location to be the greater factor. This weighting plays a significant part in how much we worry about things. I think it’s common of certain personality types, those who have experienced more negative outcomes than is typical, to assume that the most weighty aspects are those which apply to themselves. This skews the worry levels.

The best thing we could do is find the most comprehensive studies of each negative outcome and learn (and trust) the results and each of its factors. Studies are being done constantly, and each study gives us a chance to refine our internal calculator. It is impossible to discount personal experience, but the more we are able to see our experience as an exception, the more we are able to ease our worry.

But why does it matter? Is worry a good thing or a bad thing? An amount of worry should be counted as a good thing. It provokes us to prepare, to take precautions, to avoid needlessly risky situations. But it doesn’t take much worry to promote these behaviors. Any more than a little worry is debilitating. It freezes us, it haunts us, it destroys our ambitions for advancement and progress. When we become preoccupied with every potential risk that may arise, no matter how small, the doubt rises to the forefront of our minds and binds us to the floor. We become unable to decide to take even a small risk with great chance of reward. We become afraid of new places, new people, new situations, new ideas, new adventures. We get stuck in the status quo, frozen in place.

But most importantly, we cannot be happy. Fear and happiness are antonyms, they cannot coexist. If you fear the simple walk from your front door to your car, you cannot be happy. If you fear the activities of the day, you cannot enjoy that day. If you fear even the smallest risks of living in a neighborhood, you cannot enjoy the pleasant company of your neighbors, the tranquility of a peaceful night, or the pleasures of simply playing in the yard on a warm afternoon. If you let a misjudged assessment of risk keep you from enjoying life, what’s the point of your life?

It becomes vital, therefore, to minimize our worry. We must be wary of the risks, and prepare for them. But once we are prepared, let go of the fear, for it no longer does us any good. Cease to worry, and let yourself enjoy life as only a stress-free person can. When a problem arises, then it becomes time to worry and use the preparations you have made to remedy the issues as best as possible. Sometimes things happen, tragedies, that have no remedy. Disease, injury, death, etc. Precautions should always be in place to mitigate these risks and minimize them within reason, but should these risks ever cause us such fear and worry as to destroy our happiness? If we ever get to that point, it is safe to assume we have misjudged the risks, and are worrying too much. We must then take steps to reduce the risk, educate ourselves on the actual risks, and do whatever else we can to cast out our fear, that we may again be happy. For happiness is the very purpose of life. Even tragedies should never prevent us from being happy.