It sounded like an interesting concept. Instead of fretting about stuff all day, set aside a worry time. According to the article, “The idea is that rather than worrying about things throughout the day, you designate a small part of the day to worry about everything that’s troubling you and work on finding solutions for things within your control.” The article went on to say, “This technique is designed to help you reduce the amount of time you spend worrying about things beyond your control.”

As an organized, sequential person, I pieced this idea together one step at a time. Thursday, an easy day in my week, would be good. Since I usually wrote in the morning, had lunch, and went for my walk early afternoon; 3 p.m. seemed like the best time, but I worried about getting out and back home on schedule. A phone call could delay my leaving. I might stop at the grocery on the way home. There could be traffic delays. It was 8 a.m. and I was already on edge, and growing suspicious of the worry time idea. The theory was putting pressure on my psyche.

In truth, I didn’t want to deliberately worry. What was wrong with spreading the occasional fretting here and there throughout the day? Wouldn’t it be easier to acknowledge the angst when it came and deal with it on the spot? Regarding negative self-talk, in his book, “Chatter,” Ethan Kross suggests, “Reframe your experience as a challenge.”

For me this boils down to reevaluating and replacing any negative worry thoughts into stuff I can handle anytime of the day. And for the tougher concerns, it’s all about having patience with everything that remains unsolved in my heart, being quiet enough to hear that positive inner voice and wise enough to pay attention.

With the worry notion off the table, I decided to set aside a daily time for gratitude and laughter. An early bird, I opted for 6 a.m. on the deck with a fresh-brewed cup of coffee. My exercise began and ended with deep cleansing breaths and reciting a favorite mantra. “Thank you for this lovely day that I’ll live with joy and happiness, positive thoughts, and deep gratitude.” In between the recitation, I went for giggles. Some mornings the humor came from the antics of pets, other mornings observing the interactions of deer and bunnies in the yard provided the fun. And every now and then something I’d read would get the chuckle ball rolling. It was an article on the hard truths we face as we age. I was a bit annoyed when I first scanned it, mostly because a number of things on the list of 15 maladies applied to me. I can relate to loss of mobility. I’ve gone from running to speed walking to just putting one foot in front of the other at a doable pace. Short memory lapses that have me wondering where I left my glasses are irritating. Morning aches are a pain. All somewhat humorous, I suppose, but sitting in my gratitude and laughter time on a lovely summer morning, I had to admit that my least favorite aging hard truth became the funniest. “Your body makes weird noises.”

I creak. Getting out of bed, up from a chair, bending to retrieve a dropped pen my once well-oiled joints groan. Previously enjoyed lentils create new unpleasant burps. Tinnitus isn’t music to my ears. And the neck clicks are getting louder. Saving the best body racket for last, to keep my innards in good working order I’ve started taking a heavy-duty probiotic. The warning label lists a possible embarrassing side effect. I’ll say no more except “excuse me” to the cat. Hope you’re laughing with me.

As much as I enjoy my morning gratitude and fun on the deck, gratefulness and good spirits aren’t grounded in a physical place or time of day. Aging happy is a state of mind to shoot for any time, any place. How about now? “Thank you for this lovely day that I’ll live with joy and happiness, positive thoughts, and deep gratitude.”

Carole Marshall is a former columnist and feature writer for a national magazine. She’s had stories published in Chicken Soup for the Soul books and has written two novels and one fitness book. cmkstudio2@gmail.com