Aligning Mind, Body & Soul
Do you have new thoughts?
Or do you cut yourself with the same emotions?
Is your joy bespoke?
Or do you suffer from nostalgia?
Is this experience a new memory?
Or is it part of a story written before me?
Are your bad habits new?
Or are they part of your DNA?
When you cry, is it transactional?
Or does it bleed from deep within?
Do you sing in the shower?
Or do you fear your voice?
What are you afraid of?
Or is it this?
Once upon a time, there was a little redheaded boy, named BW, born to a man who was figuring out his life and a woman who took on Responsibility as if it were created only for her. BW was the cutest kid you have ever seen – flaming orange hair. Technically he qualified a redhead, but a true artist would say the blazing orange of a sunset, the heat from a roaring bonfire, and the best mix of ketchup and mustard for sublime tator tot dipping. BW was the apple of his daddy’s eye. Life had some struggles but all seemed smooth when along came another baby – a teeny tiny little girl, with large, dark eyes and dimples that could melt even the most frigid. Sweetheart, she was called by both her mommy and daddy. It was clear from the beginning that she would be the star of her mommy’s story. The family seemed ablaze – full of life and love. But, as with all tales of wisdom, these two young people could not make it work. They fought and created cuts, scabs and scars in each other, until the bond broke, and the two children of fury and flame were left in the middle.
Fast forward over the next 15 years. BW and Sweetheart were best friends. Daddy remarried and adopted two older sons. Mommy remarried and had another baby – with large dark eyes fringed by lashes so dark, they appeared to be cut from a single piece of cloth. Growing up was difficult – between parents fighting, new marriages blooming, and all-American families blending. Needless to say, roads diverged. Sweetheart and BW lost their friendship, and Sweetheart stopped calling, coming to family functions, ceasing to exist in the world they had created.
Fast forward 15 more years. Daddy gets sick. It appears as though it is an intestinal blockage. But it is that C word. That horrible life taker, misery maker, leaving questions in its wake. But Daddy beats it! He comes out the other side, where esophageal cancer is waiting. Again, he fights his battle. His head held high, hope and humor his armor. One day, Daddy starts cursing like a sailor. Trying to escape his house. Forgetting his phone number. It appears this battle cannot be won. That damned C word has taken refuge in his brain, on his adrenal gland, in his bones.
For the last weeks of Daddy’s life, Sweetheart stayed by his side. Washing his face, sharing stories, holding his hand, watching old Westerns. BW joins and the two converge on memory lane where the 3 Musketeers roam once more. Where life seems to have a vintage quality but the characters are more grown up, mature, and facing a mountain of pain and despair. That mountain they will climb as a two-some, as BW and Sweetheart, because Daddy is now in the sky, illuminating the mountain with his brilliant rays, casting out demons, cleansing, warming the soul and shining from the laugh lines and dimples, bouncing off that beautiful orange hair.
This is where “control” doesn’t exist. In this land, there is no word for it. There is only day-by-day. A journey of remembrance. In this world, it is apparent where “control” misled, demanded, judged, forced, and demeaned. And it is in this world where love and laughter, living side by side, accepting people as they come that exists. The message is simple – Love and Be Loved.
I miss you Daddy. I only needed “One More Night” or “Another Day in Paradise” to see your “True Colors”. I “Can’t Stop Loving You” with this “Groovy Kind of Love”. “You’ll Be in My Heart”.
<Phil Collins and Genesis are a family favorite. Please listen to these songs and honor my Daddy.>
I am going through a rough patch. There. I said it.
My word of the year is “temperance” but I am finding “control” to be much more applicable. 2017 was a year of stretching me. I quit my public accounting career, choosing not to become partner but instead choosing my own personal “road less traveled”. I went to work for a small nonprofit at the convincing of a friend of mine, who happened to be the CEO. I started traveling to upstate New York around 30-50% of each month. I learned new things – things I had never worked on before. Budgeting, modeling, forecasting, bookkeeping, efficiencies, policy setting, deferred revenue accounting, human resources, payroll, technology implementation, workflows. I learned about whistleblower policies and how detrimental poor leadership can be for the culture of an organization, how limiting selfish leadership can be for the growth of an organization. I learned that people can mask themselves under any façade, but ultimately it is typically a short-lived manipulation of the audience. I learned that I am indeed capable of love. I learned that my family means more to me than I had ever expressed. I learned that I have a lot of walls up, and while I am communicative, I tend to lack grace in those moments. I learned that it is true – if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. I have also learned that there is a time limit to accepting grace, comfort and interest from those around you when a hard period lasts too long. And then I have learned that friendship, for me, is defined more intimately by those who are willing to pick me up when I fall.
Have you experienced a year of this much transition? This much growth? Did you remain hopeful, optimistic, and even charming? Or did you find yourself swirling around the drain of defeat, knowing you likely wouldn’t be sucked in but wondering all the same what it would feel like to have the current take you away?
I wholeheartedly believe that a “breakdown” means that a rebuild is coming. I know the horizon is beautiful and that the sun is coming up. I can practically feel the morning dew now 😊
All allegory aside, this is still (yes, still) a post on control. In nearly all those lessons learned above, I had very little control. 2017 was a choose-your-own-adventure book! It had the elements of a great story – a classically beautiful heroine, a surprising antagonist turns villain, a love interest, and a dog. And what do we learn from good books? The plot generally thickens through the main character’s choices as reactions to external factors. Why? Because those outside factors are WAY MORE FUN. If this was just about the protagonist, it would be called a “diary”.
I have tried for the past month to make myself ok and “just enjoy” this time. On good days, I can manipulate my thoughts into creating a positive environment which is slightly manic, to be honest. It feels fake, like I just put on my mom’s lipstick instead of my own. Might fool people on the outside, but I know inside it is a shade I would never wear. And that makes me uncomfortable. My attempt to control my feelings is not mastery over my thoughts, it is short term manipulation. Right now, I am accepting this position. This is not WHO I am; this is WHAT I am going through.
For anyone reading this, if you are going through a particularly rainy season in life and find your umbrella bending in the wind, here are my suggestions:
My final suggestion – message me. I am happy to be a ray of sunshine. Together we can make a rainbow.
I love reading books. I love reading books and talking about them with a friend even more. Sharing is truly caring in this area of life. I find other people’s perspectives and memories actually lend to my interpretation. Sometimes I think about writing book reviews like we used to write book reports, just for fun, so that I can remember the book all that much better. Nerd alert.
My girlfriend, Susan, and I have started a Stephen King book club. It’s very elite. In fact, there are only two members. To get in, you must recite your favorite SK quote by memory, disclose what shape It takes in its most natural form, pick a favorite ride from Joyland, and if you think Dolores Claiborne should be innocent or guilty.
Let me know if you want to be admitted 😊
Anyway, we are reading Needful Things. It turns out, this book is all about CONTROL. Pesky little word that is turning out to be. And not any kind of control, but straight up MANIPULATION. In true King-style, there is an element of supernatural at play, some hypnotism, and definitely a good versus evil theme.
A little background on the book (but please read it for yourself, because it is shockingly good!): Leland Gaunt opens a shop called Needful Things in a small town called Castle Rock. He panders to the deepest, darkest desires of his clientele in exchange for a small monetary fee plus a small act of service. These acts are construed as harmless pranks that Mr. Gaunt asks each customer to perform on a seemingly random townee. Once the web becomes visible, however, the sheer power of Mr. Gaunt’s control, and use of the objects of his customers’ affections to dig his hooks in, is illuminated.
What strikes me throughout my reading is that each and every person knows Mr. Gaunt is evil before they strike any deals with him. A handshake causes nausea. A smile looks leering. An approach is aggressive. Familiarity is premature. His skin feels like paper. His eyes change color depending on who is telling their story. Despite that intuition, everyone still assumes Mr. Gaunt “knows best.” Except Sherriff Pangborn who just can’t shake off his intuition that something is not right, with his gut leading him ever-closer to Needful Things and its creepy proprietor.
I am going to confess that this is not my formal book review as I still have about 30% left to read. But I am also going to tell you straight up that I can’t stop considering control as a good versus evil thing. Stick with me here. In my previous post, I explored mastery versus manipulation as forms of control. Here, as I chat with Stephen King about control via Needful Things, I wonder if we know the difference between good control and bad control based on intuition. Our 6th chakra. Ajna. Our third eye. That gut instinct that tells us – don’t do that, calm down, stop being negative, you can do this, don’t give up. That intuition that says that the universe won’t leave us on our asses no matter what is being dished out at any particular moment. That feeling that if we stay centered and uplifted, we will be able to see more clearly.
Should any one of those Castle Rock inhabitants trusted their gut, walked out of Needful Things, or, gasp, returned the item they didn’t want… perhaps Castle Rock would remain intact, rather than the town formerly known as Castle Rock. That, however, doesn’t make as good of a story.
And in this thing called life, struggle is indeed a better story. Mastery of our perception of struggle is the best story yet. Looking forward to see how this chapter of life plays out.
How is it that in this life, the only thing we can control is ourselves, but if we are too controlling then we aren’t really living? Where is the balance in that?
Marcus Aurelius is quoted in Meditations, “you have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
In my recent yoga classes, I found myself conflicted while trying to follow the instructions of the yogi:
“Release control.”
“Allow your mind to flow freely. If you catch yourself stopping on one thought too long, bring your mind back to neutral by controlling the flow of your passing thoughts.”
“Let go.”
“Move with control.”
“Free your mind with your breath.”
“Control your breath.”
This got me thinking about “control” in general. Control has a mixed bag of reactions. I just had one of my longest girlfriends tell me to stop trying to control everything; that certain things are just outside of my control. Go with the flow. Stop analyzing.
I think I need to smoke more pot, honestly. Because I am an accountant, type A, ENTJ. My mind is my strongest muscle. You know what it likes to do? SCENARIO PLAN. I am great (although I have some friends who are MUCH better) at planning – I quickly assess, build out scenarios, map out pros/cons, determine cost/benefit, and choose. I am decisive. Patience is not my friend. I feel great in the driver’s seat.
So when someone tells me to “go with the flow” or “it will all work out”, I want to lose control… of my emotions and my mouth. I really want to tell people to “fuck off.” And then, if I do that, I am not in control of my own reaction, which is a negative.
I think we need to make up our minds about “control.” When is control good? And when is control bad?
Self-control = GOOD
Muscle control = GOOD
Impulse control = GOOD
Controlling a person = BAD
Controlling a situation = BAD
Controlling a situation because you are paid to do so = GOOD
Controlling your thoughts = GOOD when you are controlling them to think optimistically
Controlling your thoughts in yoga = BAD
My brilliant brother, master of many languages, PhD candidate, pastor, and all around good guy, entertained me with the origin of “control” from a language basis. We talked about the Greek versions of “control.” And in typical nerd fashion, we both uttered the praises for the Greek people who identified complex emotions with more than a single word. Love, for example, has three words, so that you don’t mistakenly erotically lust after a hamburger or liken your romantic emotions to those you have for your mom. What a brilliant concept. Similarly, “control” has at least two different meanings he could come up with over the phone. One implying manipulation and one implying mastery.
Let’s try the example above:
Self-control = MASTERY
Muscle control = MASTERY
Impulse control = MASTERY
Controlling a person = MANIPULATION
Controlling a situation = MANIPULATION
Controlling a situation because you are paid to do so = WELL DONE
Controlling your thoughts = DEPENDS (are you controlling them to hide from something? To do damage? To obsess? That sounds like MANIPULATION.)
Controlling your thoughts in yoga = MASTERY
Ok, now that we note the difference between mastery and manipulation, where does willpower play into this? There is a lot of evidence out there that willpower is a limited resource. Is mastery a muscle that gets stronger with use? Or is it like our eyes – after so much use, it’s power is diminished?
Looks like we found more questions on this adventure…