As I was driving home a few weeks ago, after a lovely lunch with my BFF, I noted how dark it was outside.  

Within minutes of noticing, I received several alerts on my phone warning me of an expected severe thunderstorm that was slated to strike my home area. The storm was to arrive within the next 45 minutes – just around the time of my kids’ school pick-up.  

The prediction was that this storm was going to strike hard and fast. Aside from the downpour of rain, the report said it would also bring large hail capable of damaging cars and property.  

The instructions were clear.

Take cover.  

By the time I pulled into my driveway the local emergency warning alarm was sounding. My nervous system (aka threat detection system) was now activated into Fight or Flight or the sympathetic state. My body was responding as if “The Nothing” from “The NeverEnding Story” was coming. 

Instantly, my brain, not operating optimally in that state, went to several things. 

• First, I hope my oldest child doesn’t hear that alarm and worry. He tends to do that.

• Second, how am I going to be able to locate my two children in the driving rain, possibly hail, during the already chaotic school pick-up? One is dismissed from the school in our subdivision and the other rides a bus from the magnet school and is dropped off at a different time.

•  Third, I hope our car and/or house doesn’t get damaged and add another thing to my To Do list. 

Those thoughts took less than 10 seconds to formulate. Then, as the rain started to come, my brain spent the next 15-20 minutes sorting out possible scenarios and solutions. Perhaps, thinking I could control the outcome of the storm?  

Then, almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone. No crazy amount of rain and zero large (or small for that matter) hail, as predicted. The clouds broke up and the sun began to shine again. If I hadn’t been alerted or could not see the wet pavement or smell the moisture in the air it would be as if nothing had happened. 

Just as a storm is a disturbed or agitated state of the atmosphere, our thoughts can shift into an agitated state sending our brain into worrying and prediction of potential scenarios. How many times has something happened and you instantly began “predicting” the future? 

The truth is we have no way of knowing what will happen. The worry itself serves no purpose. What worry will do is cause us to look for evidence to support what we think will happen. It essentially serves as a filter to see the world through. 

I’m not sure about you but I don’t like the idea of seeing everything through worry glasses. It’s an unsettled and fearful state. Not a fun way to live. 

The good news is that while we can’t do much to influence the actual weather we have the power to affect our our own internal weather.

So how do we shift out of worry? 

Awareness is key. Noting if your brain is just busying itself searching for solutions and making predictions can help give you the space you need to take a deep breath and respond appropriately.

One of my favorite tools when my brain gets busy with worrisome thoughts is to ask a couple of Byron Katie’s “Four Questions.” First,  

“Is it the truth?”

If the answer is yes, the next question she offers is, “Can I be absolutely certain it is the truth?”

Usually, the answer to that question can reveal whether I’m acting as a fortuneteller and wearing my worry glasses or living in reality. If you haven’t tried it, I suggest giving it a go next time you experience a thought storm.

Have a favorite tool you use to weather a worry or thought storm? Share it in the comments.