Worried? Try not to worry about it

I plead no contest to the charge of over-worrying. When a friend fails to arrive promptly at a designated meeting place, when ambulance sirens pierce a quiet night or when the return phone call doesn't arrive, my worry glands often go into hyperactive mode. Over-worrying is in the genes, the gnawed nails, and the sweaty palms. The experience of a Washington resident earlier this month reveals a difficult decision: When is concern justified? His involvement, although far removed, in a Starbucks triple murder in ritzy Georgetown gives anti-worriers and worriers alike something to consider. According to an article in The Washington Post, he was passing by the coffee shop at 10 p.m. on the night of the murders and was taken aback when he saw the lights still on; the store usually closes at 8 p.m. He remembered being surprised that the store was still open, he told the Post. Sometime between 9:15 p.m. and 5:20 a.m., a flurry of gunshots in the coffee shop tragically claimed the lives of the three store employees on duty. And the unprecedented violence in the trendy area sent residents, friends, and co-workers (not to mention flocks of summer interns) into a frenzy of hyper-alertness, edginess, and -- with good reason -- worry. It's natural to question whether, if this man had alerted authorities to his concern that the lights were on after hours, the tragedy could have been prevented. (He's likely considering this question himself, as well.) If a crime situation had been averted, he would have been hailed as a hero. But had nothing been wrong -- if the workers were simply doing a late-night inventory -- he would have been labeled an over-worrier. In retrospect, his casual observation that something was wrong at the coffee shop that night was correct -- and as the tragic events of that night continue to unfold, it might prove a critical piece to the puzzle. But he saw no blood on the windows; he heard no gunshots. He noticed something strange and walked by, and that invites a larger question: Where does genuine concern cross the line of needless worrying? What's perceived as over-worrying in Georgetown might be considered smart caution in West Philadelphia. Walking the streets of our home sweet home, we're often aware of the possibility of crime just around the corner. We could wave away the startling Georgetown triple murder in well practiced, nonchalant West Philly style, and ignore the implications of the ubiquity of danger and violence. We get a twisted sense of satisfaction comparing other cities' crime situations with our daily crime reports. Nothing new to us, we coolly say. Or we could force ourselves to answer the broader question: When do we allow the remote possibility that something is wrong to make us concerned? Being convinced that everything is all right, all the time, opens up the possibility that tragedy could happen right in front of our eyes. Then again, over-worrying can make us paranoid. We cant interpret every footstep as threatening and each siren as alarming. It's not always wrong to worry, even if we are met with opposition from the anti-worrying front. It is wrong, however, to undertake personal responsibility for changing a course of events. And it is similarly wrong to believe we have no control and shouldn't express our concern at all. The hassle-free, carefree lifestyle may not be all it's cracked up to be by those vocal anti-worriers. It's time for worrying to finally get the respect it deserves! Taking action on a worry creates a way to channel concern into possibly averting a bad situation. It lets friends know we care and it shows that we are aware of our surroundings. There's no need for those carefree types to convert to our over-anxious lifestyle. But worrying, in moderation, also means displaying concerned caution. And that includes knowing when to take thoughtful action, and not just dwelling on an anxiety. Worriers of the world, unite! We're not ashamed, despite a blatant anti-worrier bias in our society. ("Relax!" they say. "You worry too much! Everything will be fine -- just calm down.") The worst blow came in the late 1980s, when Bobby McFerrin's song "Don't Worry, Be Happy" became the motto of the crusade to stamp out our compulsive pastime. Even now, with a roll of the eyes, our frantic fears are dismissed as silly and trivial. It is true -- and fortunately so -- that most of our concerns never happen and needlessly consume our energy and time. Not that our poor track record deters us from continued worrying (nothing could do that). Instead, we readily admit our over-anxious tendencies, and just keep right on doing what we do best. Worrying -- we'll call it displaying concerned caution -- has a lot more merit than a lot of people will acknowledge. There's a line of intelligent concern, somewhere between incessant over-worrying and carefree comfort. I don't claim to know where that is. But, surprisingly enough, I'm not worried about it. I'll leave that up to you.