Why Worry?

October 02, 2020

I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened is both something Mark Twain said and a later edit that has just, all of a sudden, got on top of everything.

What it feels like for a girl

We listened to Madonna’s ‘Music’ album in the car. Yes, I am a sucker for albums.

So, I was dangling my feet off a wooden dangling bridge over a river. I was wearing the classic dark blue Adidas slides. Did not worry, for a second, about losing my slides in the river. Sometimes, worrying is good, yet, you see? I didn’t lose my slides, I was just living. As in feeling. Grateful to still have my slides. I must admit, though, the slides must’ve crossed my mind. Thank God I didn’t worry then, but hey, should I now? For not having stopped the taking of the picture of me dangling my feet off a wooden dangling bridge over a river while wearing slides that are known for not having any “protection” whatsoever? Of course not, the whole look was too good not to. Men’s classic dark blue Adidas cotton shorts and my black bra top. A glass of white wine in my right hand. Hair in the air.

Now. Where were we?

I was, later on, wearing a red check, cinched at the waist, short jumpsuit I feel a special way inside of and carrying lavender in my right hand while going down the stairs of a wooden kids’ house in a beautiful meadow.


Here we go.

You know how English people almost always say No worries! as a reply to Thank you! or to Excuse me? My brother and one of my dearest girlfriends live in the UK, so I got to spend quite a lot of time doing the extraordinary just as much as the ordinary there.

I’ve never heard it in my native language. Until just recently, when my heart skipped a beat. Said in the most genuine way I’d ever heard someone say by someone I didn’t even know. So, I made sure that I would meet them. And I did. And we lived happily ever after. Wait. I’m kidding, but you know what? This is the drill.

The aforementioned No worries! came from a lady at the bar of the up in the mountains Hanul Vatra cottage I got to spend a couple of days in. The first time, we just sort of crossed paths and she gave me the most casual No worries! in the world. I, glitterally, smiled straight into her eyes, for a split second, after having turned my head towards her in no time. The second time, she, yet again, very naturally, said No worries! to my Thank you! for the coffee at seven in the morning. Delightful sun coming up from behind the mountains and through the windows of the restaurant and all, yes, super cozy clothes, fresh air, fresh coffee smell, fresh milk, you get the vibe. I grinned big time and gently asked her if it’s a region’s thing. This No worries! of hers.

She smiled and a bit shy, surprised, said I don’t think so or who knows. She told me she hadn’t even realised she was saying it and we had a wonderful conversation over coffee, yes, the vibe.

Then, every time she would see me, she asked me What were the words I said?. With a not so shy anymore, still shy, but prouder now smile. Cute prouder. So, the first time happened in the restaurant, when we sort of crossed paths. The second time was over the coffee in the morning. And then a third time happened. She was leaving work (the cottage I was staying in). I was writing on the porch outside. From afar, quite afar, she asked me, screaming, grinning, hehe: What were the words I was saying? I screamed back from the top of my lungs: No worriiiieeees!

She smiled. Enthusiastic. I laughed. Happy.


The moments.






Had I not paid attention, this moment would have not happened. It was a usual thing for her. For me? The usual thing for me was to worry. Not the worrying in the typical, mot-à-mot way. But worrying somewhere in the back of my mind. Subtly and almost all of the time. I like to know that everyone around (and in the world, ideally) is well. And kind. But, oh, the great, magical moments, lived with just the same kind of people (great, magical) I completely forget about worrying with! That’s when the extraordinary happens.

Worrying is a form of staying in the mind and the mind is cool, super cool, for when you need it. The moment you start feeling, though, enjoying, is the moment you might think I would call extraordinary, but it is, actually, ordinary what I would call it. It makes us feel home. And only after, feel the extraordinary. I can feel it in my stomach as we speak.

And so on. You know?

Pressure is good on special occasions. I bet I will enjoy, to some extent, worrying about my kids. I can’t wait for them to, one day, read this to their father and me, over toasting champagne, on a different kind of porch, on their arrival, in the morning, from a party or two and for us, the parents, to give them the looks our parents used to give us when we used to come home in the morning after dancing the whole night through. Saying the whole phrase in one breath may make you worry already. See? Growing up, my brother and I saw our parents partying till the morning light ~oh the vibe, celebratory every time~. They knew we knew and they still gave us the look. It’s a thing.

Worries seem so real, at times, that you can’t help it. At other times, though, if you pay close attention, you’ll see that all you have to do is relax. Feel. Try to scream, in a charming moment in time, while laughing, No worriiiieeees! at someone and you’ll see what I mean. It’s a feeling.

Some kind of worry, the worry that feels like pressure, can be good for making your dreams come true, for having your eyes wide open in crucial situations.  Some opposing situations right here. Does this mean life is an entire crucial situation? Of course not, whooh! That’s called flying

Worrying during a flight never made sense to me. I’m not talking about that flight we all, kind of, at least once, have been and saw our lives flashing before our eyes on. It’s not like you can do anything about it. You’re supposed to just sit. You’re not only supposed to. It’s the only thing you can do while suspended in a gigantic piece of iron in the air. Not suspended, but flying at incomprehensible speed and altitude in the air, actually. Similar to the only thing it is sort of asked for us to do on this gigantic piece of planet in the air. Spinning around its own axis and around the sun at incomprehensible speed. In incomprehensible space. Incomprehensible, but true. 

To be. Be present and let our mind enjoy a vacation as much as possible, as often as possible. Don’t ever, though, mistake not worrying for being lazy. You do you, whatever you do. Same, Cristina, same.

PS: now good luck with the not worrying part!

PS to the PS: I, glitterally, enjoyed the cottage, the late night conversations, the shared food, the road trips, the music, the surroundings, the sun, the places we saw, the river we put our bare feet in and the cottage’s owner. Hello, Otilia! Like there’s no tomorrow.

The last PS. I think. See? Think. I didn’t say I feel. So, hm… What I’ve come to understand is that life has a way of surprising you and is, in fact, interested in your truth. So (I just took a deep breath), no matter the worrying, things are always working out and people don’t change, they just become more of who they are which is great, because I’m becoming more of who I am, so yay to us! You can’t worry and love at the same time.

Whooh! I wrote it in bold to make sure you see it. It was important, no? Flying like there’s no tomorrow.

Hey, this is Cristina Pavelescu wearing a music cassette sweater, decoding (life) style and writing from wherever, yet always living in OZ, a world I invite you into. To smile in front of our screens (and live one day), put any kind of questions, answer in writing (or imagination) and marvel at fashion which is, in fact, style.


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