Living Well with Worry: Embracing Presence and Pleasure
Last week, I wrote about how to worry well — about setting aside time each day to give our worries attention and, in doing so, taking back some mental space. But managing worry is only one piece of the puzzle. The larger question remains: How do we live fully and freely, even when worry is with us?
For many of us, worry isn’t something we can simply eliminate. Some worries are practical; others are existential. Some can be managed through planning or preparation, while others linger, fueled by the unavoidable uncertainties of life. Learning to live well amidst worry is about acknowledging its presence without letting it take the driver’s seat. It’s about cultivating a sense of resilience and presence, even when worry is our frequent companion.
To answer this question of how to live well with worry, I’ve often found myself turning to indigenous and ancient wisdom. And I think there’s a reason for that — a reason rooted in the changes that came with the Industrial Revolution and the rise of capitalism.
The Historical Backdrop: How the Illusion of Certainty Took Root
In my studies of sociology and social change, I learned how industrialization — and its "sister invention," capitalism — transformed not only how we worked, but how we viewed ourselves and the world. Industrialization, which began in the late 18th century with the invention of machines like the steam engine and the spinning jenny, allowed humans to mechanize production and increase efficiency on a massive scale. At the same time, capitalism became the dominant economic model, emphasizing profit, private ownership, and competition.
Together, these forces changed more than just our economies. Life shifted from a slower, cyclical rhythm to a fast-paced, productivity-driven model. Where farmers once planted according to the natural contours of the land, following the seasons and adapting to the rhythms of soil and weather, agriculture became something far more controlled and rigid. Instead of diverse, intercropped fields, we saw rows upon rows of identical corn, stretching endlessly in neat, predictable lines, engineered for maximum yield.
The idea of “progress” came to mean mastery over nature — the ability to impose order, predict and control outcomes, and pursue growth and efficiency at any cost. This shift moved us away from working with the land and toward treating it as something to be tamed and exploited. And in the process, we began to believe that we could — and should — be able to control nearly every aspect of life. The illusion of certainty crept in, and collectively, we lost many of the practices and rituals that helped people live with life’s inherent unpredictability.
Modernity and the Illusion of Certainty
Modern life — especially in the industrialized West — has historically offered a sense of security, with systems and conveniences that make control feel almost like a guarantee. But this comfort has come at a cost. When we’re faced with profound uncertainties — personal losses, global crises, existential fears — we often feel anxious and unprepared. The truth is, we’ve lost the psychological resilience that comes from accepting uncertainty, along with the ancient wisdom and rituals that once helped people navigate it.*
Ancient and indigenous cultures often had very different ways of understanding life, rooted in communal values, reverence for the natural world, and an acceptance of unpredictability. People lived in closer connection with nature, recognizing that they were part of an interconnected system where uncertainty was woven into the fabric of life. The cycles of the seasons, the rhythms of the land, and the inevitability of change were seen not as problems to solve, but as realities to live with.
In contrast, the mindset that came with industrialization and capitalism taught us to see ourselves as separate from nature, as agents meant to master and extract from it. This shift may have made our lives more comfortable in some ways, but it also led to a loss of certain wisdoms that might have helped us navigate worry with more grace. Instead of viewing hardship and unpredictability as natural parts of life, we’ve come to expect stability, predictability, and control. And when life doesn’t meet those expectations — as it often doesn’t — we’re left feeling anxious, unprepared and frustrated.
Turning to these older ways of thinking has helped me find a different approach to worry. Instead of seeing worry as something to be “fixed” or seeing uncertainty as something to eliminate, I’m learning to see them as parts of life that I can coexist with. In a world that pressures us to seek control, ancient wisdom reminds us that resilience isn’t about mastering life’s uncertainties, but about finding peace within them.
The Limits of Trying to Eliminate Worry
Our culture often sells us the idea that we should “overcome” worry, as if a worry-free life were not only possible but the ultimate goal. But striving to eliminate worry can actually make it stronger, pulling us into a loop of resistance and frustration. In my experience, accepting worry as a natural response to uncertainty — not a flaw — opens up a different path. Instead of asking, How can I stop worrying?, we might ask, How can I live well, even if I have worries?
Worry often reflects our love for the people and things we hold dear, our desire to protect what matters. If we can accept it as part of our experience, we may find a way to live alongside it without letting it take over.
The Philosophy of Living Amidst Uncertainty
Living well amidst worry often requires us to make peace with uncertainty. In my own life, I’ve found wisdom in different traditions — ancient philosophies, spiritual practices, indigenous worldviews — that speak to the challenge of embracing the present, even when the future is unknown. From Ancient Near Eastern texts to Eastern spiritual practices, we’re reminded to “be present,” to “delight in what is good,” to “take joy in small pleasures.” These teachings recognize that while we can’t control what’s coming, we can find peace and meaning in the here and now.
This perspective has helped me see that living well isn’t about banishing worry; it’s about learning to carry it well, letting it be present without letting it obscure life’s joys and purposes.
Resilience Through Pleasure and Presence
One of the most powerful ways I’ve found to resist worry is through pleasure and presence. C.S. Lewis wrote something in 1948, in the anxious early days of the atomic age, that I often come back to:
“If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things … working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint ….”
In other words, even in the shadow of fear, we can choose to live. We can engage with life’s small, human pleasures as acts of resistance against worry’s grip.
Dr. Steven Hayes, one of the founders of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, offers another perspective. Reflecting on the popular Nike slogan “Just Do It,” he suggested a better message might be: “Had fear and did it anyway” or “I can hold my fear.” To him, that’s the truer motto: fear doesn’t need to disappear for us to take action, live fully, or even enjoy ourselves. Instead, we can carry it with us, acknowledge it, and keep going.
This idea has been transformative for me. It means that I don’t need to wait for worry to vanish before I can be present for life’s pleasures. Whether it’s sharing a laugh with a friend, savoring a good meal, or simply noticing a quiet moment, I’m learning that I can engage with these joys even if worry is still somewhere in the background. I remember that my worry tells me something about my values — and I use that information to guide my presence. For example, when I worry about my children, I try to refocus that energy into being present with them. It might inspire me to linger an extra ten minutes at bedtime, holding them close and fully embracing the moment — encoding that memory and letting it in. The fear reminds me of what I care about, and I work to channel it into presence. Choosing to enjoy what’s in front of us, even when fear is present, is an act of resilience — a way to live well amidst uncertainty.
Embracing Uncertainty
As I move forward, I’m letting go of the expectation that I’ll ever live a truly worry-free life. Instead, I’m choosing a different approach: to worry well by giving my worries time and structure, and to live well amidst worry by focusing on what’s in my control and finding moments of pleasure and presence in what isn’t. Worry may always be a part of my life, but it doesn’t have to define it.
For me, the true goal isn’t to banish worry but to build a life that moves forward with it — a life that embraces joy and meaning, even when uncertainty is part of the landscape.
*Recent events, such as global pandemics, the erosion of democratic norms, and climate collapse-related crises, have exposed cracks in the myth of certainty. However, because many of the rituals and practices that once supported living with uncertainty have been lost, these challenges feel even more profound. I believe the turmoil of the past several years has triggered a collective existential crisis: as the illusion of certainty has broken down, many communities are struggling to find the psychological, spiritual, and social resources needed to navigate collective and cosmic uncertainty.
