How to stop worrying about things you cannot control

Grab a piece of paper and draw two circles. The big one is your Circle of Concern—all the things that keep you up at night. Write them down. The economy, your neighbor’s opinion of you, whether your kid will get into college. Let it all out.

Now, inside that big circle, draw a smaller one. This is your Circle of Influence. Here’s where you write the things you can do something about. Your budget, how you respond to criticism, whether you pack an umbrella.

The magic isn’t in the drawing—it’s in the space between the two circles. That gap? That’s where your worry lives. And when you see it on paper, it suddenly feels a little less overwhelming. You’re not ignoring the big stuff. You’re just choosing where to put your energy.

I keep my circles taped inside my journal. Some days, the small circle feels tiny. Other days, it grows. But it’s always there to remind me: I don’t have to fix everything. I just have to focus on what’s mine to fix.

Telling yourself to ‘stop worrying’ is like telling a toddler to ‘stop crying’—it doesn’t work, and it usually makes things worse. So instead of fighting it, schedule it.

Pick a time—say, 4 PM—and set a timer for 15 minutes. This is your official ‘worry time.’ During these 15 minutes, let it all out. Write down every single thing that’s gnawing at you. No filtering, no judging. Just let the anxiety have its say.

When the timer goes off, close your journal. Stand up. Walk away. If a worry pops up later, gently remind yourself: ‘I already gave you space. I’ll see you at 4 PM tomorrow.’

It sounds too simple to work, but here’s why it does: Your brain learns that worry isn’t being ignored—it’s just being contained. And over time, that containment gives you back control.

(Pro tip: Don’t schedule worry time right before bed. Trust me on this one.)

Worry thrives in the gray area—the ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes.’ But when you force yourself to answer one simple question—‘Can I do something about this right now?’—that gray area starts to shrink.

If the answer is yes, write down the next tiny step. Not the whole solution. Just the next thing. Call the airline. Text a friend. Google a backup plan. Action quiets the noise.

If the answer is no, that’s okay too. Some things just aren’t yours to fix. Label it as ‘non-actionable’ and let it go. Not forever. Just for now.

I used this last week when I was stressing about a family member’s health. I couldn’t control their choices, but I could research local support groups and send them a link. That tiny action didn’t fix everything, but it gave me something to hold onto. And sometimes, that’s enough.

Worry lives in the future. Your body? It’s always right here. And that’s your secret weapon.

Next time your mind starts spiraling, try this:

- 5 things you can see: The cracks in the ceiling, your coffee mug, the tree outside your window.

- 4 things you can feel: The weight of your feet on the floor, the fabric of your shirt, the cool air on your skin.

- 3 things you can hear: The hum of the fridge, a car passing by, your own breath.

- 2 things you can smell: Your soap, the laundry detergent on your clothes.

- 1 thing you can taste: The mint gum in your mouth, the lingering taste of your last sip of water.

This isn’t about distracting yourself. It’s about reminding your nervous system that right now, in this moment, you’re okay. The future will handle itself.

I keep a smooth stone in my pocket. When my thoughts start racing, I run my thumb over it. It’s my way of telling my body: ‘I’m here. I’m safe. We’ve got this.’

Radical acceptance isn’t about liking the situation. It’s not even about agreeing with it. It’s about acknowledging reality—just as it is—without fighting it.

Because here’s the thing: resisting reality doesn’t change it. It just adds suffering.

Try it now. Think of something small that’s been nagging at you. Maybe it’s the rain ruining your plans, or a snarky comment from a coworker. Now say to yourself: ‘I cannot control this. And I accept it as it is.’

It might feel weird at first. Maybe even wrong. But that’s okay. Acceptance isn’t a one-time thing. It’s a practice. And every time you choose it, you’re telling your brain: ‘This isn’t an emergency. We don’t have to fix it right now.’

I used to hate the phrase ‘let it go.’ It felt dismissive, like I was supposed to just magically stop caring. But acceptance? That I can do. It’s not about giving up. It’s about giving yourself permission to stop carrying something that was never yours to carry in the first place.

Progress isn’t linear. Some days, you’ll feel like you’ve got this. Other days, it’ll feel like you’re back at square one. And that’s okay.

But here’s what I want you to do: At the end of each day, ask yourself, ‘When did I worry less today?’ Maybe it was just for five minutes. Maybe it was when you chose to focus on your breath instead of refreshing the news. Maybe it was when you let yourself laugh at something silly, even though your mind was still racing.

Celebrate those moments. Not because you’re ‘fixed,’ but because you’re trying. And trying is enough.

I keep a jar on my desk. Every time I notice myself letting go of a worry—even just a little—I write it on a slip of paper and drop it in. On the hard days, I read through them. It reminds me that I’m not failing. I’m learning. And that’s something to be proud of.