The concept of control is not my friend. In fact, we have been at odds for a while now. In my 20’s we had a huge battle when the anxiety that flowed through my being bubbled over into my everyday existence. Married and happy, I feared not being able to control the bad things that were surely to come my way, because “why would I deserve this happy story?”
After battling back from that phase, the wave of motherhood pushed me under again in my 30’s. Here are these precious little beings that my husband and I are responsible for, and I can’t control if they break an arm, have a disorder or even decide when they stop pooping their pants. When it comes to my children, I now try hard to keep the mantra in my head, “they are here to pass through you, they are not yours to possess.” Sometimes, it works. We still have the teenage years to go though, so that mantra may need to be permanently written on my hand for recollection.
Today, I am continually reminded that the only things we have control over is our action, reaction, and our words. Seem like a lot? Ask those affected by disasters, disease, and random acts of violence and the answer will be no. Giving up control is allowing yourself to recognize that the world is not fair, that bad things happen to good people. As the world seems to be getting more chaotic, prayer is not only a conversation that I need, it is sometimes an hourly deference to a power greater than myself, which is required to quiet the fear and anger that control brings into my life. In those first few moments of surrender, there is peace. Control is a persistent foe, however. It can rage back within hours or even minutes. It is indeed my life battle and therefore, my life lesson.
What is yours?
What is my battle??? I battle against unreasonable expectations and struggle with people who claim that they do not pursue nor require perfection and all but demand it daily, in order to interact positively with others. – And yet I also admit that, for some of those folks of which I speak, they know no other way to be. Which in turn makes my desire for their acceptance of imperfection an unreasonable expectations in and of itself, right? Hmmm.
Sometimes control is about deciding everything that happens…
And sometimes control is about, when the big waves come splashing up the beaches of our lives, being able to say “Cowabunga!” and ride our boards up over the top of them…
Happy soul surfing to you
Oh, mama. Vying for control is something a lot of struggle with. I wasted my 20’s and most of 30’s trying to hang on to what little control I really had. Finally I snapped and now I’m struggling to find balance. Hmm, I think I shared more than I should have. I just wanted to let you know, I hear and you’re not alone.