If you’ve ever accidentally swallowed a fly while sipping from your drink, you know it’s not the nicest of surprises. I’ve had a lot of bugs in my house over the summer, and a few weeks ago, two fell from the ceiling into the bed while I was sitting on it. Around that time, I started worrying about my water glass.
Like many people, I keep a glass of water on my nightstand. But where I used to just wake up at night and eagerly take a few gulps in the dark, now, every time I put the glass to my lips, I wonder: “Is there going to be a bug in there?” I might cautiously sip or press my lips together to — pun alert — test the waters. If I can see a bit, I might try to glance inside the glass. Without fail, however, I ask myself that darned question, and of course, without fail, there has never been a bug in my glass.
In all likelihood, one day, there will be a bug paddling in my water. But if I worry about insects for 999 days before, finally, on the 1,000th day, one eventually shows up, that means I’ve spent 99.9% of the time worrying for no good reason. Perhaps, I am realizing, it is better to not think about bugs.
What’s that saying about the old man? “I’ve known a great many troubles in my life, most of which never happened.” You can’t get through life without a few scars and broken eggs, and though you won’t intend for either, sometimes, it’s better to go at full speed and swallow the occasional, unpleasant surprise — even bugs — than to tread lightly and never arrive at your destination.
Don’t worry about bugs. Worry about too much worrying.