If I were to judge America’s most worrisome cities by the radio shows I’ve done, I’d pick New York and Seattle. Worriers are everywhere, so maybe it’s just that the radio jocks in those markets live in thinner career eggshells than constituents elsewhere.
I have a good handle on the interlocking elements of an interesting topic [worry], and love discussing it. I enjoy a free-form discussion centered on what matters to someone far more than a script where the host reads from a list of questions prepared by my publicist.
Worry is a lot more fun to discuss than lecture about, so the more curious someone is about the topic, the more fun it is to explain why he or she feels the way they do; or teach how they can worry less about the wrong things while handling the right ones more efficiently. Worry management is a life skill; some do it well but others do it poorly and there are very specific, explainable reasons why. Happily, worry management is quickly learnable. All it takes are three hours and the motivation to change. Invest the time and trust what you learn and soon you’ll be teaching others a better, more reliable thought process to organize and manage the noise that life inserts to rattle around in your head.
One winter weeknight I was a guest on a three-person radio program in Howard Stern’s old studio (pre-Sirius) at CBS on West 57th Street in Manhattan. It was a good, unscripted show with lots of spirited discussion.
Near the end of the program the host started whining about how tough things are. He was trying to bait me but I refused to bite. I am a relentless optimist with a strong, vocal belief that we find in life what we look for. Look for the good, see the good. But change lenses and search for what’s wrong and guess what we’ll see? What’s wrong.
Just as worry is a choice, so too is what we look for in a job, partner, situation, or life. When the radio host insisted on droning on and on about how bleak things are, I let him prattle until I couldn’t take it any more. I was convinced he felt that way only because of how he chose to look at things.
To prove my point, I issued a challenge.
“As soon as the show’s over,” I said, “I want you to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to walk outside and pick a direction, any direction. Then walk for five minutes.”
He was curious. “And do what?”
“Look for someone worse off than you,” I said. “See if you find one.”
He paused for several seconds, then broke into a slow smile.
“No need,” he said. “I’d see more than one. And it wouldn’t take five minutes.”
It was my turn to smile. “How about that? Next time you’re drowning in stinkin’ thinkin’, change what you’re looking for. It works every time.”
I’ve taken a lot of five-minute walks in my life, all around the world. I’ve visited too many impoverished areas and seen remarkably sad things. Bad breaks, hopelessness, despair. Every walkabout I’ve ever taken delivers me back a better, more compassionate man.
So, next time you’re feeling down, go for a five-minute walk. Open your eyes, mind, and heart and study what you see. You will see a different world and cherish your place in it.
Best of all, this little trick will work for a lifetime.