Controlling The Uncontrollable— A Self Reminder —Reprise

I’m writing this as a self-reminder, although I’m sure you guys could use one too.

I cannot control the traffic or the way other people (idiots), drive.

I cannot control the cable person, the electrician, the handyman, the trash picker-uppers, the tree trimmers, the person who’s making my latte, or the air conditioning repair person. I cannot control the time they will arrive (which is never inside the promised window) how well they will perform their task, or what personality traits they possess (too chatty, too pissy, too flirty, too…)

I cannot control anyone or anything about the DMV. Period. End of story.

I cannot control the weather. I can have every app, and alert, but it will seldom cooperate when I hold an event outdoors, and I never have an umbrella or sweater when I need one.

I cannot control my dogs or any animal for that matter. I can guide them and train them, and make suggestions, but they all have minds of their own and there will be slobber on my white walls, water and/or muddy footprints all over my white slip covers and wood floors, and fossilized vomit under the bed. It’s inevitable despite my best intentions. This goes for children as well.

I cannot control my spouse or my family. (See above).

I cannot control the government, the postal system, the medical system or the educational system. But I can vote.

I cannot control bad grammar. Their-there-they’re, its-it’s, I could care less, It’s a mute point, Ugh. Dear God, make it stop.

I cannot control the speed or dependability of my WiFi connection, although I still think if I yell obscenities loud enough it will be shamed into complying.

I cannot control my hair. Where on my body it grows, what color it wants to be, and its texture. It’s time to give up the good fight. While I’m at it, I cannot control eye wrinkles, cellulite, lip lines or dark under eye circles, so I’m done letting Madison Avenue sell me the snake oil.

I cannot control how my garden grows. I can fertilize, weed and trim, but it has plans of its own to which I am not privy.

I cannot control aging. It has a superpower called gravity, and the combination are unbeatable. I surrender…you bitches.

I cannot control what others think of me. It is impossible.
I can carefully cultivate my image; but one false move, one bad outfit, snarky comment, or piece of spinach in my teeth and all that hard work is shot to hell.

I cannot control the bad manners of others. When a man lets a heavy door slam in my face as I exit a building right behind him; instead of jumping on his back like a crazed spider monkey…I send him love.

I cannot control what’s happening on the planet. Too many moving parts. I just have to trust in a Divine Order. (Which is true for all of it – everything in life.)

What I’ve discovered is this: ALL of my sufferings comes from thinking that I can control things. I cannot. And neither can you.

But here’s the one thing I CAN control – my perception and attitude. That’s it.

I can control ONLY my own energy and what I bring to the day, to the table, to every situation I encounter – even to the mirror, and THAT can change it all.

As my mom used to say when we were fighting with each other, as kids, “You just pay attention to yourself – watch where you’re going.

Got anything to add to the list?

Carry on,
Xox