In charge of so little

‘What advice would you give to those who are struggling with the lack of control they’re experiencing right now?’

This question came up in an interview I watched yesterday. I was so glad it did.

Two of the most talked about topics right now are (1) the ability of our healthcare systems to deal with the pandemic and (2) the economic effects of the crisis. These two concerns are on everyone’s radar, but very few of us actually have any say in what will happen and what will not. We are not in charge of medical supplies, nor of the resilience of healthcare workers or the number of beds at Intensive Care departments. And none of us in charge of when this pandemic ends.

So, what can we do? There are two things I would like to share with you today. The first is the answer given in the interview I mentioned. The second is a practice that I have found, and still find, very helpful in easing my own control-seeking mind. I hope it might serve you too.

The interview (https://t.ted.com/S8ey1A2) was hosted by TED on their Facebook page. Chris Anderson spoke to author Elizabeth Gilbert and here’s what she said about control: ‘The sense that you had it, is a myth to begin with. What is happening right now, is not that you are losing control. You are just noticing for the first time that you never had it.’ The first step in letting go of control, she says, is to recognise this simple fact. ‘All you ever had, was anxiety. And paradoxically, the surrender is very relaxing. This surrender is letting go of something you never had.’

The practice that helps me in letting go, comes from Anne Lamott. In her book ‘Help. Thanks. Wow.’ she too speaks about admitting that ‘we are in charge of so little’. She goes on to describe a tool she calls ‘the God box’. All you need is a piece of paper, a pen and something that can serve as a box. ‘The container has to exist in time and space, so you can physically put a note into it, so you can see yourself let go, in time and space’.

On the piece of paper, you write a note. If you don’t feel comfortable addressing this note to God, just think of something that works for you, something outside yourself, that is bigger than you are. Some people might opt for ‘the universe’, ‘love’, ‘that which is too vast to be named’. I write my notes to Mother Mary, who was the favourite saint of my dear grandmother.

You can either keep it very brief and simply write down the situation that is bothering you or the name of a person you are worried about, or you might take some more time and describe what is on your mind. Then you fold up the note and stick it in a box or jar, you put it in a drawer or the glove compartment of your car. As you can see, I place mine at the feet of Mother Mary, so she (and my grandmother to whom this little statue belonged) can take away my fears, my worries, my doubt.

You might want to say something, silently or out loud, as you literally surrender control to whatever or whoever is in charge, acknowledging that whatever or whoever it is, it is not you. And then you have asked for help, you have done what you could. Breathe. Relax. And just keep doing the next right thing.