I had something of a quandary last night and this morning. A friend generously invited me on a hike. We'll stay a safe distance from one another, he assured me. The idea was tempting but also, I'll admit, frightening. Not unnerving but really frightening. I couldn't see any way to stay properly distanced through the whole thing. What if I brought this invisible thing home to my family? Those thoughts kept me turning and turning through the night and into this morning. Ah, anxiety.

This morning I told him I just couldn't do it. Relieved of the anxiety about the hike, I felt a new worry that he would think I'm a fool, but I put that aside pretty quickly. Chris is my friend. These are crazed times. Maybe he's disappointed — I sure am — but he's not angry. He's a better friend than that.

This reminded me of what my friend Jon, a retired psychotherapist, wrote to family and friends:

I am used to thinking about how to manage anxiety on an individual and family level. I remind myself what the evolutionary biologists tell us – that anxiety (or stress) serves the vital purpose of calling our attention to a threat so that we can prepare to act to protect ourselves. After we get the message and act on it, the feeling of anxiety has served its purpose and no longer provides any benefits. In fact we all recognize that persistent anxiety interferes with our optimum functioning, including the function of our immune system. So how do we let go of the anxiety, or at least put it to the side, when the threats are persistent no matter what actions we take?

I am trying to tell the anxious part of me that I understand that it will keep reminding me of threats that haven’t gone away. That is its job. But I also keep telling it that the larger part of me is already doing its job responsibly, that is I am taking the protective actions that are within my control. When I keep receiving the same messages from the anxious part of me, the larger part of me needs to speak up to tell it to keep its distance. It should agree to let the message through, but seek to have the emotions that usually accompany it left at the door.

My anxiety about hiking called my attention to a possible threat and forced me to prepare by thinking things through as logically as I could. Anxiety kept that decision making at the front of my brain as I sat with the family watching Worst Cooks In America. Anxiety said, this is important enough to keep thinking about. I kept thinking until I made my decision.

The worry about Chris thinking poorly of me is anxiety from things in my history that have proven misguided. It's all about thinking I'm unworthy. I told that anxiety, thanks for the message, but this one's under control. My logical self knows that people love me and can speak gently to the anxious child inside me.

Which is not to say that all anxiety is childish. My anxiety last night was all grown up and reasonable. The one worried about my friend's reaction, that's a little kid. Both anxieties have their places and both can be addressed and managed.

This morning headlines aren't uplifting. I'm anxious. But I'm home, taking precautions. My hands are washed. There's nothing I can do right now to prepare and make the situation better. Still large parts of me are anxious, so I have this talk with my anxious self:

Dear Anxiety, I've received your messages, loud and clear. Thank you. Now, have a nap. Rest. You must be tired after being on duty all these days and nights. Don't worry, I'll wake you when you're needed again.