Henny Penny was initially dismissed by her friends. But, what if she was right and there really was danger ahead?
We all know a Penny. The one who always seems a little too worried, too early. The one scanning the horizon for danger while the rest of us are still enjoying the sunshine. Henny Penny they used to call her. You remember the story- -the chicken who thought the sky was falling. She ran from animal to animal warning of disaster. But because she had no proof, only panic, no one really believed her. In another version the friends followed, caught up in her panic only to be hurt in the end. Depending on the version, she’s either a foolish alarmist or someone ignored until it was too late. Either way she became a symbol of overreaction. A punchline.
But what if Henny Penny wasn’t wrong? What if the sky really was falling, or at least shifting in ways only some people are tuned in to feel? What if Penny wasn’t a pessimist, but a person who noticed what others didn’t want to see. Maybe she wasn’t scared but tuned in? What if her friends didn’t follow and they regretted that they did not heed her warning?
Maybe Penny saw it coming. The way the world started fraying at the edges. The wildfires weren’t just seasonal anymore-they were swallowing towns. The pandemic didn’t end so much as mutate. Grocery prices really did climb. When Penny warned us-about the the next crisis, the brittle economy, the mental health toll of doing too much for too long we brushed it off. What if the Henny Penny’s of the world aren’t fear mongers, but truth tellers in a world too distracted to listen?
But we ignored Penny. Who can afford to feel all of it? The reality that we may experience loss, injury, death or other catastrophe can often only be digested in small doses. Then came the crisis. The diagnosis. The phone call you never want. Suddenly, her warnings weren’t warnings anymore-they were memories we wish we’d listened to.
Anxiety often gets a bad rap as something weak or silly. But anxiety, after all, is often just an early awareness of what’s fragile. And when disaster finally strikes-whether it’s a storm, a diagnosis or the slow unraveling of a system-we remember the people who tried to tell us. We remember Penny.
With the current heightened anxiety in our country and around the world who are we to believe? Are the news reports correct or exaggerated? And which news report should we consider? What if our “overthinking” is valid? Many anxious persons sense threats before others recognize them. There are times when anxiety is protective and ignoring the worrier may be a form of denial, and wishing things weren’t true. Anxiety isn’t the opposite of strength- it’s an important survival tool. In fact there are times that anxiety is a super power.
I think about how that kind of anxiety shows up closer to home. In families, Penny might be the mother who can’t sleep until everyone texts that they have made it home safely. The uncle who always stores water and cans, and makes sure there are flashlights in every room. Or that practical family member who buys everyone a fire extinguisher in lieu of more desired gifts?
In my own life I have felt that same knowing. I didn’t just know when something was wrong with my parents; I felt it in my body. Before the doctors confirmed anything, before anyone else seemed to notice, I could see it in how they moved, in their silences, in the way their bodies seemed to shrink around the edges of themselves. My gut told me we were moving toward goodbye, and that we didn’t have as much time as people thought. I felt it in my chest, but when I spoke up, I was met with polite nods, optimism, or dismissal. I thought maybe it was easier=for them-to believe that I was “just anxious”.
So I stopped talking about it. I made appointments, asked hard questions, read between the lines of medical reports, advocated in hospital rooms. I became the caregiver-not because I wanted that role but because I saw the storm forming while everyone else was still checking the weather.
I wonder how many people are carrying that kind of knowing right now. Quietly watching something unravel-climate, finances, health, and feeling powerless to stop it. There is loneliness, frustration and anger when legitimate concerns are dismissed. In being the only one who sees it.
That’s what anxiety looks like sometimes. Sometimes it’s just one person trying to brace for impact while the rest of the world looks the other way. What if what we call anxiety is wisdom instead? Maybe the people we call anxious are just the ones willing to feel what others aren’t ready for. Maybe they aren’t overreacting but instead, trying to hold the truth before it lands on everyone else.
How do you know if your anxiety is friend or foe? Of course there are times that anxiety gets out of control, growing into an uncontrollable, all consuming monster that overwhelms you. Sometime anxiety is wrong. Don’t assume it’s right or wrong but something to trigger more investigation. Sometimes it doesn’t tell the whole story. Check the facts. Check more than one source-your friends, your enemies, professionals, people’s backgrounds, history, 3 or more news sources.
The same goes for those people laughing at Henny Penny? At least take the time to hear her out. She might just save your life.
If this resonates with your experience as a caregiver, a clinician or someone who often feels things early, you are not alone. And, you’re not wrong. You might just be the one who sees the sky changing.
Rachelle is a clinical social worker and hopeful writer based in North Carolina. She provides psychotherapy to individuals coping with chronic and terminal illness, anxiety, depression and grief. She loves the outdoors, theatre, dance, and travel.