Those Dreaded Dreads

 

By G. E. Shuman

Hello my friends. Firstly here I will answer the question about dreads. No, I am not now inclined to grow dreadlocks, although maybe that would be an improvement over my rapidly retreating head of hair. Believe me, my dreads are not about baldness.

I’m talking about having the ‘dreads’. You know, dreading some inevitable something that you know is either in your immediate or even distant future. I for one tend to dread things more than I should. I know that. Still, there are things that I will probably always not exactly look forward to, and I’m sure it’s the same with you.

Once I actually had a doctor ask me how I felt about a procedure he was about to do on me. I told him I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. (The truth was I had been up most of the previous night, dreading it.)  His reply was: “There would be something wrong with you if you were looking forward to it.” I completely agreed with him.

Yes, I do sometimes dread medical appointments; things that seem to be occurring much more often than they used to. My brother-in-law recently even said that at our age doctor appointments become our social life. (And he’s a doctor.)

I also dread some lesser occurrences of life. I dread having to make certain phone calls. I dread starting home improvement projects, (Maybe that’s why our home looks as it does.) I dread meetings, and other things. Also, I can barely write the words ‘tax season’ without including the word ‘dreaded’ first. I often even dread, or at least don’t much look forward to things that are supposed to be fun. Church potlucks, school plays, and other functions are things I attend but don’t always relish, partly because, these days, I also try to avoid going out in the evening. I wonder what that’s a sign of. 

I ALWAYS dread using my snowblower. Yup, I really dread that. It’s a good one, but I don’t care. It’s a pain to use. Just yesterday as I was teaching my morning classes I couldn’t help dreading going home, bundling up, and spending two hours of quality time behind that thing. Still, as far as that machine goes, it’s definitely a love-hate relationship. I hate it, but I’m also glad I have it to use. Shoveling would be no improvement.

I guess I wrote all of that to say that I, and likely probably most of you, have definite dreads. My advice, mainly to myself, is to get a grip, quit whining, (just plain stop it,) and go do whatever it is I’m dreading. 

It’s a sure thing that dreading and worrying never helped anything. It never helped a doctor appointment or test result, it never helped a meeting or ‘dreaded’ phone call either. It dang sure didn’t help my ‘date’ with my snowblower yesterday.

The things that I have dreaded over the years have, apparently, not killed me. It’s time for me to trust more, pray more, and dread less. How about you?