7.18.17

My Idea of Control

I think my entire life is spent somewhere between losing control and attempting to regain control. I’m usually never in that tiny, in-between space of Empress of Control. I’m very bad at giving it all away, which is something I’m constantly working on. I think, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t need to actually control every aspect of my life – I just need to feel like I can do little things that make me feel in control … you know?

In my head, there’s totally a difference, but there might not be.

There are lots of ways people try to regain control of some aspect of their lives. Some are healthy (hitting the pavement for a good run), some aren’t so healthy (restrictive eating). I’m pretty sure I’ve tried everything in between and under the sun trying to feel the comfort that comes from having some sort of vested stake in your own future. 

After thirty-plus years, I can now tell you this, without hesitation: nothing on this earth can make the tiny control freak in me sing quite like the thrill I get from rearranging furniture.

Yeah. I know. Whatever.

It seems silly.

Believe me.  I know.

But it’s the truth.

I rearrange my little chunk of heaven, the space that are all mine and filled with the things that give me joy, and just like that, I have a resurgence of productivity and a little endorphin spike. It’s starting with something new, even if it’s with all the old shit you’ve had since college.

It’s like giving a toddler something small and menial to do, so that she can do it and then have a sense of pride and ownership over it.  I’m a big, overgrown, furniture-moving, shit-saying proud toddler.

So maybe that’s the trick: finding something small and seemingly insignificant to do that makes your heart sparkle and gives you some sense of accomplishment. If even for a moment. Whether it’s scratching one thing off your insanely long to do list, organizing your magazines, making your bed, or whatever you can think of, find a fail-safe. Find something that makes you feel accomplished.

As for me, I’ll be shoving my bed around and swearing a lot. It’s what I do.

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