The Illusion of Control and the Gift of Tragedy

The last couple of years have reminded us that control is just an illusion.

I spent most of my life trying to micromanage everyone and everything around me.

I was rarely successful, but it made me feel like I was doing something.

That something turned out to be worrying.

Somehow, I felt, deep down, worrying could stave off chaos. If I just worried enough, I was somehow in control.

The opposite also held true, in my head, and it terrified me. If I DIDN'T worry, obsess, plan, micromanage, stay vigilant, everything would go to shit.

I gave myself and the self-appointed role of "worrier" utmost importance.

And then the last few years happened.

Things I was worried about never came to pass. Tragedies I had never even imagined did.

And none of it was in my control.

With tragedy, came an odd gift of sorts

I suddenly opened my eyes and woke up to the fact that decades of my life had passed, and I had missed them. My body had been there, but I had not. I was so in my head about the "what if's" that I missed out on the ‘nows.’

This fact makes me sad. The realization, however, makes me grateful.

I have made myself a promise to try not sleepwalk through the rest of the time I have left. Try is the key word. We are creatures of habit and fear is more comfortable than surrender. We would rather cohabitate with the fear we know, than embrace the stranger of the unknown.

I am trying. When I forget, I try again.