Chicken, Lions, and Eggs: On Control and Letting Go
The chicken and the egg
The age-old question of what comes first.
It’s not often that I find myself ruminating over things like these, but one incident in the classroom sparked an inner conversation that’s gnawed at me for some time.
In an argumentative essay prompt about Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, one question that caught my eye entertained the idea that Tom Robinson, the innocent “mockingbird” that was unjustly killed, had been a victim of his time. In other words, had Tom Robinson been alive and tried today, there might be a chance that he would walk away a free man. An interesting observation, so much so that one of my students piped in and inquired that it is somewhat similar to the “chicken or the egg” concept.
I stopped in my tracks.
That incident happened weeks ago, and the question still lingers, clawing for an answer. After wrestling with it for some time, I finally kind of answered my own question. It’s not a question of who came first, but this question aimed at something far more personal to me than I imagined.
One of the reasons why the “chicken or the egg” question continued to beleaguer me is that it’s less than a philosophical question and more of a question of control. Who decides which comes first is more important to me than the philosophical and scientific calculations offered. In truth, I’m bothered because I can’t get to decide which came first. I’m agitated because I want to, though.
Personally, I never thought of myself as someone who takes charge in situations. However, after spending two years teaching high school students, I can attest to how much of a control freak I am. I’d freak out once things seem to spiral out of reach. I’d be harangued by negative thoughts once I suspect things to be undoing themselves. And, most importantly, I’d do anything in my power to make things right.
If I were Tim Urban (which I am obviously not), I would illustrate this feeling with an adorable illustration. To avoid plagiarism, I’m going to dedicate this next section to him.
Hi Tim, here’s to you.
Let’s say my impulse to have control is actually managed by an inner imaginary animal called the Controlling Lion. The Controlling Lion has a massive mane, a resounding roar, and an intimidating body so as to terrify and discombobulate my thoughts even at the glimpse of it. One roar from the Controlling Lion shatters my sense of security and sends me down a spiral of never-ending “what-ifs”. Like a turtle on its back, so my stability is overturned by the Controlling Lion.
Other than roaring and throwing me off-balance, the Controlling Lion also sticks around and continues to roar even while I am overturned. Much like a bully will do to its weaker target. What a turd.
The Controlling Lion, however, is afraid of one thing: The Electric Shaver. You see, I left out a couple of important details from the Controlling Lion—it’s toothless and the intimidating body is just a bunch of matted fur.
Yeah it has a magnificent roar.
Yeah it has an intimidating physical stature.
But, no, no it does not have the potential to harm anyone.
You see, part of taming the Controlling Lion is recognizing that it is essentially helpless. A big part of lions’ “Scare Factor” in the wild is their teeth, which they use to tear and chew and tear again at preys they succeed in killing. But I guess, unlike regular lions, our imagined Controlling Lions are toothless and powerless.
Take out your Electric Shaver and your Controlling Lion will run. The Electric Shaver now is a sign of you taking control of your need to be in control. I know, I know, that’s confusing, but here’s essentially what it means.
When you take your weapon (in this case the Electric Shaver) and use it against your enemy (the Controlling Lion), you are essentially taking back control over a perceived sense of helplessness. When you “shave the lion,” you are exposing its lies (its massive body is only a bunch of matted fur that makes the lions look intimidating) and you are seeing things from another point of view.
Now, coming back to the question that started it all— which came first, the chicken or the egg? If Tom Robinson from To Kill A Mockingbird is living today, will his case be any different?
I realize that I spend a little too much time on imagining things that should be and not enough time to implement things that will be. In other words, I realize that too many times I have let the Controlling Lion roar and set me off guard for things that are trifle in comparison to the big picture.
Who cares if the egg comes first? We’d still have chicken either way.
Similarly, as with this thought spiral and, consequently, really long blog post, I have learned that, although I cannot control what is on the outside, I can control the Controlling Lion. I can control my thoughts and not let the excessive need for control take over me. In short, I have learned to let go and be at ease for once.
What about you?