Losing Control

For a control freak, there are times that having no control at all is just what I need.  My discomfort and panic come from not being in control when I think I should be.

Let's take a dinner party at my house.  It's impossible to remain calm and charming if the guests arrive 22 minutes early.   And when they present me with dessert that I've asked them not to bring?  Lovely hostesses graciously accept it thinking, "the more time together and the more to eat, the better."  Instead, I think, "How could you possibly come early and why would you bring something that I asked you not to bring?"  That being thought (the truth is it's actually also been said) I'm not such a lovely hostess if my rules aren't followed.

There were two times in my life when having absolutely no control gave me peace.  The first was a 6-day journey on the Trans-Siberian Express.  Making the choices before the trip were agonizing because I could control them all.  When should I leave?  How far should I go?  What kind of food should I bring?  Should I take the top bunk or the bottom one?  But the moment I boarded, the moment that I totally lost control of my life for 6 days, I was at ease.  There were no decisions to make.  I couldn't control anything.  I could only get an ice cream cone when the train made one of its three, 20-minute daily stops.  If the stops were at 6am, 2pm and 3am there was nothing to think about.  I got the cone at 2pm and it was okay.  (Not to say that I've never eaten ice cream at 6am or 3am.)      

To be polite, I followed my roommates' schedules for everything else.  I ate when they ate and I went to bed when they went to bed.  I was decisionless and it felt like a real vacation.  Being trapped on a train for 6 days meant freedom.  I had nothing to do but knit, braid the hair of the little girl that was travelling with her grandpa and play poker with the Russian soldiers in the next cabin.  When we went over a bridge, everyone got up and looked out the window.  There weren't many bridges and the guidebook didn't talk about them so I didn't have to decide which ones I wanted to see. I looked when the others looked because it was the only choice I had.

I took my watch off.  It didn't really matter what time it was.  The passengers that had boarded where I had were on my time schedule, but those that had boarded earlier or later in the journey were totally different. I think I crossed five time zones in six days.  In the Moscow time zone I'd left behind maybe I really was eating the ice cream cone at 3am.  But it didn't matter.  I was out of control and it felt good.  If only the Trans-Siberian weren't express.

My second favorite holiday lasted 45 days.  I spent it on my couch with a broken knee.  Much like being trapped on the Trans-Siberian, being trapped on the sofa meant freedom.  I couldn't control anything because the broken knee controlled me. Getting a little chubby was acceptable because it wasn't my fault.  I wasn't disappointed in myself for not running a certain amount of miles each week because I couldn't run.  It didn't mean I was lazy if I read all day, it meant that I didn't have a choice.  And all of these things felt good.

I read three books in Italian after having lived in Italy for only three months.  A miracle. Reading in Italian four years later, I lose my patience.  I can't concentrate because I keep thinking that I should be doing something more productive, so I quit.  Now that I'm back in control I miss the freedom of being confined to my sofa.

Today's tea bag quote:
  Let things come to you.
That's not so easy for a control freak.  But I'll try.

I know it shouldn't take a broken knee or a trip to Siberia to feel free. Most people read as much as they want to read when they want to read and run as far as they want to run when they want to run.  They've set no limits and created no logs.

Maybe instead of being in control and losing myself I should start losing control and being myself.