I feel as if everyone I know is obsessed with control.
Having control. Giving control. Control being ripped from our grasp. Somehow we all got this idea that there can be no order or joy without it. Now, I’m not a very spontaneous person, and flying by the seat of my pants is not my bag. I would rather balance the exquisitely fine line between control and disarray. I’m safe there, never going too far and not being titled a total buzz kill.
The only universal truth I’ve discovered in life is that there are none, except this: I am never in control. It’s the way I might plan a party down to the pretty pink linens decorating the tops of wooden tables, but contract a stomach virus at the last-minute and never feel the cloth flutter across my lap. It’s the way that cars stall on the way to important meetings, the way that every fibre of our being can be totally enveloped in somebody with no guarantee that the feeling is going to be reciprocated.
Have you ever lived in a moment that seemed suspended in time, lingering there long enough that you could taste it? That moment that you can recall years after the pages of books have yellowed and roots have turned grey? Those moments have only come to me in the spaces between losing my grip and reestablishing my focus. They’ve only coursed through my veins when I found myself in a free-fall beyond my boundaries, beyond my limits. It is there that I’ve found that my limits are poorly drawn. They are not formal. They are not REAL. That’s a high I’ve never found in any substance.
We are all so hell-bent on being in control of the way life plays out that we forget to acknowledge that it’s happening in the first place. IT’S HAPPENING, and how amazing is that? How delicate are first and last breaths? How beautiful is the forest with the sun beaming through the holes between the leaves? How fresh is the smell of that forest after a moment (or years) of rain? To feel things so very deeply is the biggest catch 22 I’ve ever experienced, but I think that makes it worth it. It makes us hungry, makes us fight, makes us acknowledge and appreciate this vast and confusing, beautiful mess placed before us.
I say that we lose our balance more often. I say we feel without questioning our ability to feel that way. I say that we make noise, ask why, grab whatever the hell we can grip and hold the fuck on. I say we stop apologizing for wanting to dance in the grocery store to a Peter Gabriel song, for crying when we miss someone, for being angry as shit when we are wronged. I say that we live our lives on our terms, as honestly and as openly as possible.
I say we live. I say we don’t take just what we need from this life. I say we take it all.