Control is Fake

Yesterday, I presented the idea that the need for control is one of the reasons I seek perfection. I hide behind control out of self-preservation, safety, predictability, and success. This kind of security comes at a cost though. I may be immune to risk, but life is bland, lacking dynamics and adventure.

My mother called me Cautious Kate because I had trouble doing new things. I played alone in the backyard, alone in my imagination because I couldn’t control how the neighbor kids would answer if I asked them to play. It would have crushed me if they said no, so I never asked. I didn’t want to try sports because I didn’t want to be bad at them. I wanted to be successful at everything, even as a child. Resigning to whatever was safe and easy was my M.O.

I am startled that, starting at such a young age, I have been willing to sacrifice possibility to have control over a situation.

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A twinge of anger radiates through me when I consider how debilitating seeking perfection really is. How could I allow myself to miss out on wonderful possibilities in life all for the sake of control?

This shock wave of anger is a wake-up call to reassess what is important to me in life.

Is it more important to be walled up in a fortress of “safe, predictable and controlled?

What would happen if I put those things down?

What could be waiting for me on the other side of control?

Would I put myself in danger?

Maybe.

But is it worth it to just take a peek and find out? How do I even go about doing that?

Merely questioning if control actually barricades me in safety, allows for curiosity to bubble up. Curiosity is a requisite ingredient for adventure. I want more of that in my life.

What do you want more of in your life? What kinds of things are standing in your way of having those things?


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