Hump-Day Haiku: Scarlet Macaws

Inspired by the "Jungle Animal Hospital" episode of the PBS show, Nature:

Scarlet macaws sail
Bright wings snap like flags unfurled
Streamer tails ripple

Watch the episode here: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/jungle-animal-hospital-scarlet-macaws-released-wild/14294/

 

I'm (Not) in Control

True confession time:  I have never been drunk.  I have never taken a drug that wasn’t over-the-counter or prescribed by a doctor.  (Unless you count dark chocolate and the occasional Starbucks Mocha Frappucino—I do appreciate a good caffeine jolt now and again.  Anyone else think they can actually feel the exact moment when that mocha coffee goodness hits their bloodstream?  Just me?)

This is because I am a control FREAK.  I am not, however, a neat freak.  A visit to my house on any given day will confirm this.  While I’m confessing, we have had carpeting in our living room for thirteen years.  I have never shampooed or steam-cleaned it.  I know, I know, it’s disgusting.  My approach to housecleaning is basically a denial that it needs to take place.

But I hate to be out of control.  It’s scary.  It’s unpredictable.  And even though I consider myself creative and fairly spontaneous, I also love routine and predictability.  When I am able to eat lunch at home, I eat the same thing day after day (a quesadilla with refried beans, spinach, and cheese and a side of plain Greek yogurt, preferably served with an iced tea, in case you were wondering.  It’s easy to fix, I really like it—why change?)

Well, news flash to self—I am NOT in control, not now, not ever.  There is nothing like the potent combination of a husband with a progressive, incurable disease, a teenager, and a job search that continually hits dead ends to make me painfully aware of this.

Ironically, I gave a lovely and earnest speech at my high school graduation about control.  I said, in my seventeen years of wisdom and pretty much zero years of actual life experience, that even if we didn’t have control over everything in our lives we did have control over our responses to the things that happened to us.  OK, I’m actually a little proud of young me for having such a mature outlook, but it’s one thing to say this at seventeen and another thing entirely to do it when you’re forty-three and taking much too seriously your Facebook friend’s question, “If you could run away, where would you go?” because, honestly, you can think of lots of places you’d rather be than in your bathroom cleaning up the pee on the floor again and you’re in a hurry (again) because you can’t freaking REMEMBER that daily life now means allotting extra time in your routine to clean up pee or [insert activity related to caregiving here].

So, lack of control.  It sucks.  I’m American and I’m a feminist.  I like to be independent.  Not being in control often translates into (ARGH) relying on other people to help you.  I am beyond grateful that there are people I can call upon to mow my lawn when my mower is broken, fix lunch for my husband and make sure he’s OK during the day, take my kid to or from some school event, etc., etc.  But I don’t LIKE having to ask for help.  And I’m embarrassed for people to see my messy house and my messy life.

But here’s the thing.  I’ve been on the giving end of the help spectrum and it feels amazing to be able to step in for someone when they need a hand.  I like that feeling.  But I’ve come to think that it’s equally important to, at least sometimes, be on the other side of that equation.  Accepting help gracefully means being humble and feeling grateful.  It chafes, but those are skills I need to practice.  And other people appreciate getting to be the hero, too. 

It reminds me of church work.  For a long time, I did a lot of work on multiple church committees.  I tried not to ask too much of other people.  I just tried to take care of everything on my own as much as possible.  I told myself that I was sparing other people the work but really it was about (Surprise!) me getting to have more control over the activities so they could happen the way I wanted them to happen.  I can’t do that now, and guess what?  People step up when they have to.  Things get done without me being in charge all the time.  Letting other people share the burden prevents you from burning out to a hollow shell of a person who mutters resentfully about others’ lack of involvement while simultaneously patting yourself on the back for your own achievement.  Not that I speak from experience.  Yes, I have been that person, and I’m not proud of her.  She is the opposite of humble, plus, she’s super crabby.  Not fun.

Did you ever do that “getting to know you” activity in school or scouts or camp where everyone sits in a circle and passes a ball of yarn around until you have a big messy web?  And the message is that we are all connected?  It’s true.  We are.  And I think we work best when we take turns being in control—or at least as in control as we human beings are able to be.

I could do a whole, other post about control and God and us and how I think that all works.  Short answer:  I have no clue, honestly.  I believe that God is somehow ultimately in control and we’re not, but I don’t understand how or why things happen the way they do if that’s true.  I have trust in God but, really, a little more clarity would be helpful.  (Hint, hint, God.)

If you're my age, you're probably feeling an urge to go watch some Janet Jackson videos after all this talk of control, so I won't keep you any longer.  I guess I'm not sure what the takeaway is today, friends, other than to say that I’m learning how to accept my lack of control over my life.  It’s a process and a work in progress.  I’m learning.

Hump-Day Haiku

Baby corn plants spring

Up, hover with small, green wings

Above fresh-turned earth.