I think this is what carefree looks like.
I took my daughter to the park today. She was content to be in the swing for nearly 25 minutes. (My triceps were getting sore from pushing her.) Hair blowing in the breeze, smile on her face, she was happy, just soaking it all in. She hadn’t a care in the world. And she shouldn’t, she’s not yet 2.
But it got me thinking. I could use a little more carefree in my life.
Carefree is not an adjective those close to me would use to describe me. Tenacious, serious, loyal, goal driven, uptight – those would be more like it.
Merriam-Webster defines it this way: free from care; as in having no worries or troubles.
I don’t know that I totally want to be carefree. No worries or troubles sounds nice, but I’m a mom. I’ve got little people counting on me. Counting on me to take care of them, worry about the things they shouldn’t have to worry about. And I like it that way. I want it that way.
But surely I could cut down on the amount of worry, or the way I worry, or the types of things I worry about.
I’ve learned, that you never worry about the right things anyway.
I used to worry that my dad would get in a car accident on his 50-minute commute to or from work. He didn’t have an accident; he had a heart attack.
We had a long struggle with infertility; I used to worry that I could never get pregnant. Then I did, and had a miscarriage. I never worried about that.
I desperately wanted a natural childbirth, but worried that I wouldn’t be able to do it. After 22 hours of natural childbirth, my son spent 8 days in the NICU with pneumonia, one of the scariest seasons of my life. It never crossed my mind to worry about that.
So you see, I don’t worry about the right things.
What a waste of energy.
But for some reason, I still worry.
I’m working on it – you know, being a little more carefree — breathing more, slowing down, having more gratitude.
What do you worry about? Do you worry about the right things?