Control-Able

“Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.”
― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

I’m sad, jittery, unsettled.  It’s post 9/11 all over again.

I feel uneasy on the subway, walking down a crowded street in midtown, on the bus.  I think about moving out of Manhattan, but to where?  Name an idyllic spot and there was a shooting or bombing there that came from out of nowhere.  Some are terrorist, some are crazy people; it’s all the same to me because it all taps into fear.  Fear of my lack of control over my and my loved ones safety.

I like to believe in the façade of control.  It gives me comfort even as I know it’s impossible to control other peoples actions, let alone what my hair will do on a humid summer day.

So here we are again, at least I am, trying to find my way back to accepting the truth of very little control, ok no control, over our time here and how the heck to not let that truth take control of my life.

In other words, I must accept that I have no control over what happens AND I can control how I handle that truth.

One evening, a few years ago, my Mom was going through a very bad phase in her struggle with cancer.  It was terrifying and I felt the loss of control dragging me down to the depths of despair.  I called a friend in a panic.  I asked “How do I get through this?!”  She very softly said, “Put on blinders.  Stay present, in what is, right now, in this moment.”  My therapist had said this a few hundred times, but for some reason when Andrea said it, it clicked.  In that moment, my Mom was alive.  The flood of gratitude I felt for that truth far outweighed my anger over her suffering.  In that moment, it was hard and scary and yet that gratitude allowed me to feel love – for my Mom, my friend, my life – and that made it manageable.

I realized I have the choice – I can sink in fear or I can breathe in love.  Neither path changes the truth that a catastrophe has occurred, so why not choose the path that makes my days more pleasant?

After 9/11, I thought I should read each and every obituary.  After a few days I was immobile with grief.  The truth was, they were gone and my reading each of their obits did not honor them as I intended.  It didn’t help their loved ones.  It helped no one.  So I stopped and very quickly I felt a surge of gratitude for all I had.  I was present in my life and that felt more respectful towards the victims.

Today I relearn to honor the victims of recent catastrophes by allowing myself to feel sad, so sad, for those who have experienced loss.  And to embrace the present moment and experience the joy in it.