The word feels like clenched jaws and closed mouths. Like nails digging into my skin to keep from crying. The word feels like holding my breath.
Breath.
That word feels like open spaces. It feels like catch and release. Like screaming from a mountain top because the world is big and impossible and beautiful and all we have is that
(or at least the way I think I should be answered)
Memories - good and bad - fill mind
Times out of my control
*weeks underway and underwater
*daughter delivered by emergency surgery
*automatic weapon pointed at me in the tombs beneath the Parthenon in Paris
*loneliness of divorce court
*running out of bread for communion on Easter
*some trauma to unseemly to write down
*lost in the Jordanian desert with colleagues and friends as the tanks amass all around as we drove between them.
*struggle to find a job inside or even outside the church
Here is what I gained from not having control
+a view of creation with a "backyard" that included dolphins, whales, and sea creatures of all types
+a kind daughter that loves theatre just like her dad (and mom) is really good at it
+friends, adventures, and miscommunication lead to great stories
+somethings take years to heal and also carry trauma with it
+knowledge that I can sprint and still bless the animal crackers that I got from the nursery
+that I have loved through hell and I am strong enough to walk through it again through memories in order to heal.
+even on a break from the archaeological dig we experience living history that has international significance
+that I am healing enough to be vulnerable for people I haven't ever met to write poetry for the first time and share personal thoughts while now in gratitude I table dance at Panera as I wrote.
I surrender to the morning
to the cycle of spring I cannot control
to green buds and singing chickadees
who announce their place in the world
-
I surrender to my body
knit together in my mother’s womb
Too large, too small, too pale, too dark
Embodied spirit in the world
-
I surrender to my fears (and laughter)
mere colors (reflected light)
to paint the days we share
as we walk each other home
Control.
The word feels like clenched jaws and closed mouths. Like nails digging into my skin to keep from crying. The word feels like holding my breath.
Breath.
That word feels like open spaces. It feels like catch and release. Like screaming from a mountain top because the world is big and impossible and beautiful and all we have is that
breath.
Beautiful!
Oceans tremble & foam
Mountains quake & fall
The earth shakes & melts
The spear shatters;
Bodies rupture
Nations rise up & uproar
But there is a river
a city within her, making glad
At daybreak, glimmering
Inhaling: be still.
Exhaling: and know
The cycle of breathing,
These words bear repeating,
Be still
And know
There is so little in our control,
But this breath will always meet us
Lead us home.
-Modern Take on Psalm 46
Beautiful!
Control
Control is an illusion
I remember my niece telling me she was going to change the world
I smiled to myself and knew
That someday she’d learn what I learned
The only thing I can control, sometimes
Is me
Releasing control over faith
and spirituality offered
so much beauty as I
embraced the mysteries
and goodness of the Universe
As I walk through the woods
gaze at the stars
lay under the moon
walk barefoot on the earth
admire the seasons
learn the planets
An openness, an ease,
a gentle pulsing fills me
with a calm knowing of Love
The embodied control is
much harder to release
the tightening
striving
planning
organizing
worrying
The holding in of feelings,
desires, truth, authenticity
The restriction, discipline,
rigid health protocols to
heal my body that is crying
out for me to trust them,
to trust my intuition, to trust
the safety and healing within me
In many ways this control
protected me from the harm
of being me in a faith, community,
and family that couldn’t receive me
I’m grateful in these ways
to the control and know I
no longer need that protection
Instead of protection the control
now keeps me from mySelf
I’m ready to release the
control that is so afraid of me
letting go of the striving for
goodness and coming home to
my wild, wonderful, good Self
Control
The “control” group is the one you compare everything to
A reference to something pristine and unbiased
I always wanted to be in that group
But I’ve always been in the experimental group
Looking over—and not wanting to be tested
But always wanting to see meaningful results
desk chair scraping the floor
The morning frosted each win-
[delete delete delete]
The morning sang ou-
[delete delete]
birds fighting in the yard
The morning, the evening, the sunny afternoon
[delete delete]
rinse cycle in the dishwasher
“Can I have a few more strawberries?”
The morning was made for writing-
children knocking on walls
[delete delete]
“Don’t worry but where are the towels?”
[control alt delete]
The morning is writing itself.
This made me smile! What a great technique... and so accurate/present!
Thanks so much! This whole process has been so fun
I have never grasped control in my hands,
but I have white-knuckled my way
through life believing that,
if I just held on tightly enough,
I would be okay.
I strangled the joy out of so many moments,
hoping to do the opposite.
I realized I could never hold control
because it doesn't exist.
Letting go is harder than holding on,
but there's more joy.
And I have been okay all along.
Control
I lost control of my life
But, oh, it seems I never had it
It was not mine to control.
You have to learn, she said,
To understand the difference
Between what you can control
And what was not, is not, and will never be,
Yours to control.
I am learning, the hard way,
To recognise the difference
And accept the limits
Of control.
"My dear, let go.
Let go and feel the hum of life
beneath the surface of the messes
and the noises." - wow did i need to read this today. thank you. *tears*
Ground control to Major Tom:
If only you’d listen to me
all you dear unruly people,
literally everything would be okay.
Your petty problems would evaporate
Your interpersonal conflict would resolve
Your agony and ecstasy would flatten
into small, manageable chunks
and no one would slam doors
and no one would die in car wrecks
and you would be safe
—do you hear me?—
Safe!
I’m the only one in the whole world
who can keep the chaos at bay:
the braying and biting and bickering of life,
the nasty nasty problem of others’ free will.
Aren’t you sick of it? The chaos?
Aren’t you tired of it? The conflict?
Lock up your heart and grab the puppet strings
and I will help you make sure that
nothing
bad
ever
happens
again.
Ground control to Major Tom:
Why the hell aren’t you listening?
Grab it. Grab it all.
It makes it all about you.
Yeah, man,
thats exactly what I want.
both thumbs pointin' at me,
thats MYYYYYYYYYYY shit.
But then losing it is such a very bigger deal.
so, some stuff maybe just follow.
like a disciple.
We can control our emotions,
We can feel just fine
Granted it’s a lot, but we can
Do it, we CAN make ourselves
Feel fine.
Just need to stuff a lot
Of feeling
Collect a lot of stuff
Get addicting to a few things,
Please everyone and
Be perfect, figure out what
Perfect is.
And we will feel fine
Of course we could go another
Route and embrace and fully experience
Humanity and grace, pain and joy.
And not feel fine so much,
As just feeling truly alive.
Can’t control that, just give in to it!
Oh well,
Such is life!
Coming back from time off...
I let go before I left,
I let go knowing things may or may not happen.
I was okay with that.
Coming back, how much will I want to pick back up?
Or feel that I *need* to pick back up?
Truthfully...I am only in control of myself...
And sometimes even that’s a challenge.
Letting go of control both frees me and slightly scares the crap out of me.
I love this. Thank you for this prompt.
Sitting in a flood of emotions
with an unsettled mind
praying to God
who isn't answering fast enough
OR
the way I want
(or at least the way I think I should be answered)
Memories - good and bad - fill mind
Times out of my control
*weeks underway and underwater
*daughter delivered by emergency surgery
*automatic weapon pointed at me in the tombs beneath the Parthenon in Paris
*loneliness of divorce court
*running out of bread for communion on Easter
*some trauma to unseemly to write down
*lost in the Jordanian desert with colleagues and friends as the tanks amass all around as we drove between them.
*struggle to find a job inside or even outside the church
Here is what I gained from not having control
+a view of creation with a "backyard" that included dolphins, whales, and sea creatures of all types
+a kind daughter that loves theatre just like her dad (and mom) is really good at it
+friends, adventures, and miscommunication lead to great stories
+somethings take years to heal and also carry trauma with it
+knowledge that I can sprint and still bless the animal crackers that I got from the nursery
+that I have loved through hell and I am strong enough to walk through it again through memories in order to heal.
+even on a break from the archaeological dig we experience living history that has international significance
+that I am healing enough to be vulnerable for people I haven't ever met to write poetry for the first time and share personal thoughts while now in gratitude I table dance at Panera as I wrote.
Thank you God for times out of control