I love working in Australia. I'm proud to say I come from Manchester, and I guess the North West of England will always be my home, but the land down under just shades it on the beaches and its climate. Their coffee isn't bad either.

One phrase I hear a lot when I'm there is ‘No worries.’

It doesn't seem to matter what the request is.

‘Can I order a taxi?’

‘No worries.’

‘Can I have my eggs poached?’

‘No worries.’

‘Can you amputate my arm with a knife and fork?’

‘No worries.’

I love it in many ways. However, the reality is we do worry. A lot. Even the Aussies do, despite their favourite catchphrase. And clearly, doing so can ultimately rob us of a great life.

The subject of worry has fascinated me for years. So much so I even wrote a book on the topic. You see, I'm curious as to why we worry, particularly when you think about the following.

If you're reading this book and living in what is often described as the developed free world then let me ask you three questions:

• How does it feel to be one of the wealthiest people ever to have lived on this planet?
• How does it feel to know your life expectancy is higher than any other generation that's ever been born?
• How does it feel to have the opportunity to travel and discover more of life's riches in a week than most people previously had in a lifetime?

The reality is, in a generation where an overwhelming sense of gratitude should be our defining emotion, it seems fear and worry in all their guises are actually more pervasive.

Now, given that, you would probably expect me to jump on the rather crowded bandwagon packed with purveyors of positivity and tell you it's wrong to worry, be more grateful, and get on with it.

Hey, if only it was that easy, right? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I gave up my ticket for that ride some time ago.

Whilst I admit incessant worrying can have a seriously damaging impact on both your state of mind and your physical health, I think there are times when a small amount of short-term worrying might actually be helpful.

I refer to this approach as ‘worth it worry’.

Let me explain.

When the primitive part of your brain perceives a threat, it releases the hormones adrenaline, noradrenaline, and cortisol. This immediately stimulates and energizes you. Your body is preparing you for a potential challenge.

Now of course the perceived threat could actually be something quite trivial and even imaginary. However, your brain isn't taking any chances. You're now on high alert and sometimes this can be really helpful.

Why?

Because it can potentially spur us on towards positive, constructive action.

Here's an example.

I was recently going on holiday to Lisbon (worth checking out if you've never been) with my family and we were booked onto an early morning flight. Now I love early morning flights – you arrive at the airport at some unearthly hour and have time to observe hundreds of people eating a full English breakfast and washing it down with a few pints of beer.

And that's just the cabin crew.

I was working in Glasgow the day before our holiday and, although we were flying from Manchester, I would have plenty of time to get home and pack the night before.

Or so I thought.

It was only after a briefing call with my client that I realized they were wanting me to give a pre-dinner talk that was due to finish at around 7:30 p.m.

I then discovered the event was not actually taking place in Glasgow but in a location 20 miles outside the city.

My last train home was at 8:10 p.m.

I had approximately 40 minutes to get to the station after my talk. That was doable, but it was cutting it a bit fine.

I guess my Aussie mates would have said ‘no worries’ and some well-meaning self-help guru would have told me to put my trust in the universe and everything would work out just perfectly.

I was less convinced. In fact, I was worried.

Not in an irrational or hysterical way, but with a real concern that if the logistics didn't work out, then my family might be getting that early flight to Lisbon without me.

But here's the thing: those worries prompted me to take action.

Rather than be locked into a cycle of ‘“what if?” worry’ I simply decided to ask myself how I could influence or improve the situation. I couldn't affect the time of the train's departure, but perhaps I could affect the start and finish time of my talk.

So, I managed to negotiate with my client the same length of talk but starting 15 minutes earlier. Not only that, but I explored alternative trains home from other stations in Scotland if I missed mine.

I relaxed.

My worries were worth it.

They provoked me to take action and conduct something called a ‘pre-mortem’.

Some might call this pessimistic. I call it being prepared.

Because of ‘“worth it” worry’ and the pre-mortem approach, I was able to channel my energies solely into my work, rather than panicking about missing my train home.

Now please hear me right. Worry can disable you and rob you of your happiness. I'm certainly not encouraging you to do more of it. But …

The reality is, some worries are definitely worthless because there is nothing you can do to influence or improve the situation. But sometimes they could be worth it.

Make that distinction and you've just helped yourself live a calmer and ultimately happier life.

My talk went well, and I caught the train home in time. I celebrated the next day with the classic combination of a bacon butty and a beer at the airport – because, just like worry, sometimes I'm worth it.