C is for Control

We can control, be controlled, lose control, be controlling, or lack control. There is so much to say here, but because of the many variations of the word, I find it difficult to organize my thoughts in order to write. One might say I am having a hard time controlling the direction of this entry. Maybe there won’t be one. A direction, that is.

Life really seems to be about finding a balance between the things we cannot control and the things we should.

This is what I know now. I cannot control others (Lord knows, I have tried). I cannot make my son like math, make my daughter eat more, my students read more or my husband put the green bowls on the bottom shelf and the plastic ones on the top. I cannot make someone sorry or admit when they are wrong. I cannot keep the dog out of the mud or the cat from puking on the carpet. But I want to. And I feel out of control when I can’t. The bottom line is, I am. What I am finally starting to recognize is the obvious; in the big picture, these things really don’t matter. I find myself saying, “pick your battles” often. And I do everyday. I pick my battles. It is the mantra of my mid-thirties. I am starting to feel myself get wiser with age. Maybe Oprah is right.

I also know that while I put my energies into attempting to control the things I can’t, I am wasting valuable energy needed to control the things I can. And should. I can control what I eat, the days I run, and the water I drink. I can control the way I treat people and the things that I say. I can control my to-do lists and what time I go to bed at night. But since outside forces sometimes make these things difficult to control, I sometimes don’t, even when I know I should. Interesting, considering the other things aren’t difficult, they are impossible to control.

I know that losing control and letting go of control are two totally different things. Being a control freak (as I have been affectionately referred to by some), marrying another one has created major lessons in self-discipline and the art of letting go. I have discovered that I am better at it than I thought I would be. So much so that I now I have to be cautious of becoming complacent in certain areas because I have given them to someone else to take over.

I am learning to let go of the little things. If I didn’t, some days I would lose control entirely.

I know that sometimes I feel like maybe I am trying to control everything on the outside to hide the fact that so much of what is on the inside is missing that restraint. This is huge.

Writing this entry has taken me over a week. I told myself that it was because of a very sick nephew, doctor’s appointments, my own fever of 103, daycare hunts, and a clingy baby. Yes, these are all external events and yes, they were beyond my control. The truth is, none of them should have stopped me from writing at some point, yesterday or the day before or even the day before that. Again, trying to control what I can't and losing control of what I should.

I am a work in progress, but this too I can control.