Dear Control

Earlier this month we held our third virtual connect for graduates of Women Moving Forward® (in-house workshops). We started this in April, as a way to support folks during the pandemic. In addition to checking in on how everyone is doing, each time I also have a question for the group. The question this month was "what are you holding on to that you need to let go of?" There were some great answers. The most popular response by far was control.

I need to let go of control.

Graduates from in-house Women Moving Forward® virtual connect July 2020 (over 20 participants from all over the US and Canada)

Control? Of course it was control. This pandemic has caused so much change, so much uncertainty, so much seems out of control. So it makes sense why folks have been trying hard to control something - anything, and then realizing they need to stop. That's progress! It reminds me of a quote I recently read:

"If you want real control, drop the illusion of control."

So in honor of all us recovering control freaks, I thought I would share part of a poem I wrote last year, in the form of a letter to my dear foe, control. Enjoy!

Oh Control, I hate you so

           You are such a liar             

Dressed in white, seeming so right

           When really you belong in the fire

I want to burn your big fat lies

           And all the false promises

I want to eliminate all the effort

           It takes to keep up with the Jones’

You make us think that all it takes

           Is to grasp firmly and work like hell

Control the outcome, control activities

           Control and all will be well

Control my job, Control employees

           Control results and pay

Control my spouse, control my family

           Control others to find their way

Control until you can’t control

           And then go find some more

Well, here’s the deal, dear foe of mine

           It’s you I’ll control going forward

Because I refuse to let you have

Any more of my precious time

I refuse to bow down again

           At the throne of your ugly shrine

You are a phony, master manipulator

Full of empty hope

You are a deceiver, loaded with grief

Making it difficult to cope

I quit your game, Yes I give up

And choose to stand my ground

Simply do my best. Every day

Where much more peace is found