I had no idea my country was filled with so much anxiety

I live in the United States. I live in relative peace, with not a whole lot of stress. Yes, I have a day job. I have kids. I have expenses. So it is with some wonder that last night, I found myself reading this article from the New York Times, "Prozac Nation Is Now the United States of Xanax". First we were depressed, now we're filled with anxiety?

In the opening paragraphs of that article, I read about a certain Sarah Fader, a woman with thousands of followers on Twitter who openly admits her anxiety, on Twitter. The Times had graciously provided a link to her tweet, so I replied:

https://twitter.com/ScottCDunn/status/881471370659479552

Decades ago, a friend loaned me the book, The Wisdom of Insecurity, by Alan Watts. At that point in my life, I too, was filled with anxiety. I once worked with a therapist who told me that I seemed to be a person who could hardly wait to jump out of his skin. I tried to read it the day my friend gave it to me. Gibberish. A year later, I was ready. I can't explain why, but after a year, somehow, it all made sense.

The Wisdom of Insecurity is by far, one of the most influential in my thinking. Watts wrote that book at a time when many Americans were worried about nuclear war. People were building bunkers to hide in if Russia should strike first. In 1951, the cold war was just getting started and by then, people knew what "The Big One" was and who had it.

Fast forward 60 years and we find that the country with the worlds largest military, spending as much as the next 8 countries, is proving Watts to be right. People who have security don't have enough and could never find enough to satisfy their desire for more. Alan Watts pointed me to a place where I could stop thinking of every contingency and trying to solve for X for all of them. I could take it as it comes. I could allow myself to make mistakes. I could stop trying to change people, much less control them. I could just be.

Years of therapy, support groups and introspection have brought me to a place where I can honestly say, I'm OK. I am a firm believer that an un-examined life is not worth living. I write to examine my life and my thinking. I read to know what others are thinking, to find that common experience that we all have. When we examine our lives, we reach that inexorable conclusion that we are mortals, we are finite. For myself, I recognize now, that my tiny little brain is simply no match for the universe.

So I go with the flow. I allow myself to improvise. An improvisation workshop will teach you how to do this. I went to improvisation workshops for years where I learned one of the golden rules of improvisation. When you're on stage in an improvisation sketch comedy, you never say "no" to anything. You go with it and see where it takes you. The Wisdom of Insecurity pointed me to the road. Improvisation workshops allowed me to practice that way of life in a safe environment.

All of these things that I picked up along the way to middle age have become the skills I needed to just be. To not have to be better than anyone else. To not have to be perfect, for if I was perfect, I wouldn't have any friends. Would there be a peer out there for anyone who is perfect?

Think of all the things that are supposed to cause anxiety. 9/11, The Great Recession, Terrorism, Global Warming, earthquakes, the super volcano in Wyoming, pimples and Trump. Have we had enough? Shall I go on? I have something close to zero anxiety about these things. They are far, far beyond my control. With each passing day, as I mature, I find one more thing that I used to worry about that I can doff.

I've never taken anti-depressants for I've never not wanted to get out of bed. I've never taken anything for anxiety. I just don't see the point when my brain is already a 2.5 million year old pharmacy. I know where to go to have a laugh. I know where to go to share my concerns and be heard. I know where to go to find people who have the same problems that I do.

Thanks to Bono, I don't have to drown my sorrows, for I know they will only learn to swim. For me, it's not the end of the world. I don't have to use drugs to soothe my anxieties, for I know how to soothe myself. I do that with reading, with education, with collaboration.

I err on the side of peace. I avoid saying things that I might regret later. I don't give ultimatums, for someone might call on me to follow through. I keep my side of the street as clean as I can so that I never have to look over my shoulder in fear. I don't worry about what other people think. I pay attention to how they treat me and that's enough for me to know. I say what I need to say now, for I might not have the chance to say it later.

I am agnostic as to all things. I am willing to say, "I don't know". I don't hold beliefs so dear as I have come to learn that sometimes, beliefs can blind me to the truth, the moment that is now. As Mr. Watts told me in that book, "Belief clings where faith lets go." I'm inclined to say that he is right. There is wisdom in my insecurity.