I've always been a planner. Not a perfect one, mind you, but the kind who finds comfort in little lists and fresh starts. There's something about turning the calendar page that fills me with a mix of hope and possibility. As March ends and April begins, we get one of those lovely reset moments—a fresh quarter for a fresh start. I worry a lot. Always have. About big things—climate change, democracy, whether my retirement savings will outlast me—and little things—is that pain in my shoulder something serious or did I just sleep funny? What color should I paint the bedroom? But worrying, as Mary Oliver so beautifully reminds us, comes to nothing. Finally, we must take our old bodies out into the morning, and sing. Or in my case, take action. The best antidote to sitting in stunned paralysis, worries churning wildly through your panicked skull while your body is immobile, is to take action. Not frantic, reactive action, but intentional movement in a direction that matters to you.