I have always described myself (mostly to myself), as fairly laid-back and easy-going. I go with the flow, roll with the punches, go along to get along. If you're all right, I'm all right. Well. As time goes on, I have noticed something; and I don't know if it is the wisdom of age, or improved insight, or if I am morphing. But. In more and more small ways, more and more often, I find that I hold, at least loosely, to control. Eek. I said it. I think I'm one of those people. I like some things the way I like them. I feel like things would run smoothly if they were done my way. Some days, I find my tongue sore from biting it.
My hands are sometimes clenched tightly around my ideas of 'should', and 'correct', and 'best'.
And boy, are they tired.
Because this, fundamentally, is not the way the world works (and knowing some of the ideas I have sometimes, this is probably a very good thing...). Many things, most things, are out of my hands. I need only seek my place in the puzzle of this life--find the spot I fit in, find a busy-ness that lights my fire, help in the ways I can, attune my heart to the undercurrent of joy in the song of everyday.
The rest, I release.
I wonder at how Mary, so long ago, must have wondered at all the loose ends that made up the tapestry of her life. How hard was it to relax her grip, to release her hold, to find a place, and to attune her heart to joy?
I want to loosen my grip on control...so that my hands are free for real things.
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