"You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you."
- Brian Tracey
Physical control is often prized, but in the middle of a leap, release is the most important
We are driven by the need to control; as it is only with a degree of control over our lives can we forge our desired existence.
Our heroes are achievers; people with influence, people with skill, people who can control their bodies and manipulate their environments to kick, to persuade, to run, to produce, to theorise.
We speak of ‘making our mark’ on the world; of leaving a trace, of being powerful enough to ‘make a difference’, and it is only through control that some level of autonomy and therefore achievement can be realised. Passivity does not aid this, so we get caught up in a world of action – who to be and more importantly what to do. How to control ourselves and our world, and by extension those around us. If we cannot maintain control we at least strive to maintain a semblance of it, to ‘soldier on’ and ‘keep up appearances’.
We measure how successful we are by demonstrating our degree of control: of our weight, of our children, of our finances, of our careers. When something goes wrong, as it inevitably does, we react by pushing the fault, or perceived fault, onto something else.
Blame pushes people away and reimagines them up as the Other to which you have no connection. It is therefore not compatible with recognition. We refuse to see ourselves in others if they are at fault, because we wish to believe we are different. The opposing sides of a courtroom are not often crossed because staying where we are reassures us that we are right, and that ‘they’ – whoever they may be – are wrong, and that the world is thus orderly. This is a lie, created to console ourselves.
Who (or which groups) do you find yourself in opposition to?
How would you feel if a respected loved one was part of that group?