A number of months ago, I had the good fortune of traveling to India with my family. I wasn’t so keen on taking this trip, fearing that I’d get depressed from seeing the country’s massive poverty. Having read many novels written by Indian authors, I was primed to witness people living in conditions that I’d never before set eyes on.
For a number of months, I had a nagging sense of worry that got me feeling way more stressed than I wanted to be. The Inner Worrier would beckon me from out of the blue, telling me to worry about how I was going to feel while in India. It got me doubting whether I would feel OK or not — and got me squirming…