We don’t have control of when we’re born, or where we’re born, or to whom we’re born. We enter the world with little will or volition. Our ability to cry loudly and our ability to look cute and vulnerable is about our only form of control for the first couple months of our lives. We don’t have control of our parents’ jobs and their handling of money. We don’t have control over who our extended family is.
As a child, when the conditions are emotionally and physically safe, we don’t mind being told what to play with, or who to play with, or how to play. We just enter a world of imagination and stimulation and interaction freely and trustingly. We engage in the moment.
As we make sense of the world, and as the world grants us responsibility and seniority, we develop a sense of agency in the world. We start to make decisions for ourselves. We might choose some of our classes in high school. We can choose which sports, or instruments, or activities to stick with. We’re invited to choose a college (if possible and permissible by our parents/guardians) and choose a major.
As an adult, we think ahead. We put in hard work. We delay immediate gratification for later forms of reward. And we worry, and worry, and worry, and worry.
There are certainly rewards to being an adult and choosing. But how much of our control in the world is an illusion? How much of our efforts to control our relationships, our jobs, our experiences are a form of mental reassurance in order to feel safe while we’re actually flailing from one moment to the next and just trying to keep up.
You’ve probably heard the expression that the only thing that is certain in life is death and taxes. Yalom (1980) proposes that the four main issues that are a “given” in life is death, choice/freedom, isolation (or the inherent emotional and experiential distance from other human beings), and a lack of inherent meaning to the physical world. These issues happen in life whether we want them to or not. We have some control over the way these things play out, but we do not have control over their inherent existence in our lives. We’re going to die. We have to choose. Meaning is not going to find us. We are never going to fully know another’s experience; others are never going to fully know our experience.
If the last two paragraphs caused some discomfort, you’re not alone. Most of us strive to hide these realities from our senses and we don’t like to hear them.
It can be scary to feel out of control. But why? Why does it feel so uncomfortable? Weren’t we born that way? Can we take reassurance in letting go and trusting the unfolding path of each day? Can we engage the world with child-like curiosity?
Our relationship with control is actually complex, despite our striving for a simple sense of safety. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned as a therapist is that very few (if any) experiences in life are simple or straightforward. All things in life have complexity and balance. There’s wisdom in complexity.
An image of the Yin and Yang demonstrates this balance. The Yin and Yang are an Ancient Chinese philosophical concept of dualism. The Ancient Greek Philosophers had a similar concept called dialectics. This concept states that opposing ideas can exist together. We experience control at the same time that we experience a loss of control.
I’ve recognized in my experience as a therapist that this may be one of the most important ideas around psychological distress. To repeat, we experience control at the same time that we experience a loss of control. Let that sit for a second. How does that idea feel? What experiences in life pop into your mind when you say that sentence to yourself? My first thought revolves around the experience of being a parent, which carries profound emotions for me.
A significant amount of psychological distress comes when this complexity is out of balance. When we feel depressed, we’ve been beaten down to a place of feeling like we have no control over our lives. We feel powerless to the painful experiences that are unfolding in our lives, especially in regard to the people in our lives. This despair is a common ingredient in suicidal thoughts or plans.
When we feel anxious, we’re so scared that a painful event is going to occur or recur that we start trying to control any aspect of life that we can. Ironically, the height of anxiety – panic or dissociation – involves a major loss of control of our body and/or mind.
How do we maintain a balance between control and loss of control? As I mentioned in part 1 of this essay, there are three tasks that can help with balancing the need for control in our lives: 1) increasing mindfulness, 2) increasing self-compassion, and 3) improving our relationship with vulnerability. Since each of these areas require in-depth attention, I’m going to focus on mindfulness in this post and discuss self-compassion and vulnerability in a third and, possibly, forth part.
Mindfulness is a buzz word in our culture. You may have heard it before, but the concept may not have been clearly defined. Mindfulness is focusing our attention in the present moment, usually through the five senses, with curiosity and without judgment.
The first part of this process, using our five senses, is fairly easy. We can gauge the feeling of our breathe going into the body, cool and heavy, and going out of the body, warmer and softer. The next two parts of mindfulness are a bit harder. Can I notice my breathe with curiosity? What does my chest feel like as my lungs expand? What do my nostrils feel like when the air goes in and when it goes out? Do I introduce judgment even when I’m doing something as simple as breathing? Am I breathing too fast, too slow? Am I doing it “right”?
Mindfulness is an accessible form of meditation for anyone at any time. There are opportunities to read books on mindfulness that provide exercises for the reader, to sign up for mindfulness groups or retreats, to incorporate mindfulness into other forms of wellness like yoga, or to casually use mindfulness when you need to slow down and detach from stressful thought loops.
The most important use of mindfulness, in my opinion, is to improve our relationship with control. Faulty efforts at maintaining control are a paradox. The more we worry about an area of stress in our life, the less present we become and the more fused we are to the stressful issue. As a result, we’re less effective at flexibly and calmly handling concerns in our lives. On the other hand, the more present and calm we are, and the less fused we are with the stress that is playing out, the more flexible we are at tackling the issue. Presence and calmness require acceptance and letting go of the illusion of control.
In this way, mindfulness is a critical first step in balancing control in our lives. Some of the best times to use mindfulness are small moments, like waiting at a red light in the car or waiting on hold for the cable company. Applying mindfulness during moments of impatience are an excellent way to experience some initial success with the practice. Eventually, as we get more familiar with the experience and thought process behind mindfulness, we can start to apply it to more distressing moments. For instance, if we just found out that a check bounced or the babysitter cancelled for the afternoon, this can be a challenging but rewarding moment to slow down and increase our emotional and cognitive flexibility.
You can find videos on youtube that provide a guided mindfulness experience (e.g., https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZToicYcHIOU). There are also talks about the importance of mindfulness (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeblJdB2-Vo). I also have a friend and colleague that provides new guided mindfulness experiences each week in the Facebook group “Endless Mountains Mindfulness Retreats”.
As a starting point for yourself, begin slowly with the experience of being more present through the five senses. As you get used to this process, then you can start focusing on the idea of being particularly curious with the experience and noticing any judgments that occur. Finally, one of the best uses of mindfulness is to challenge yourself to let go of judgment. Can I just let the present moment be? I don’t have to do anything with the present moment. I can just be.
We’ll use a fictional case example (which parallels real work with my patients) to discuss each of our skills; in this case mindfulness.
Earl is a 33 year old Caucasian, married man. He came into therapy after experiencing a panic attack for the first time. As we explored his anxiety further, he identified stress in his marriage and uncertainty with his job as contributors to his anxiety. In his marriage, Earl said his wife grew up in a physically and emotionally abusive family and abuses alcohol at times. He loves his wife and often takes care of her emotionally. In an important session, Earl talks about the fear that his wife is going to leave him, despite his love and care for her. We connect this fear with experiences of abandonment in previous romantic relationships and with the death of his mother at a young age. Earl identifies a repeated theme in his thoughts that if he is involved enough with his loved ones, its less likely that they’ll be in danger. He’s aware this his mom’s death wasn’t a result of being in danger, but rather forces outside anybody’s control. He’s also aware that his thought is at least somewhat superstitious.
Earl is encouraged to learn more about mindfulness, and we apply the principles of mindfulness to our discussion. I challenge him to consider what it would be like to let go of the magical thinking that his closeness will keep loved ones alive. At first, Earl confronts some difficult feelings. The idea of letting go of this pattern brings up deep sadness. We talk about continuing to grieve his mother’s death.
Earl starts to watch some presentations on mindfulness and finds a book with exercises. He said he mostly gets the concept, but isn’t sure how to apply it to his anxiety. We work together on some visualization work. We start with a first step in the mindful process and encourage him to focus on the physical feelings of his breath going in and out of his body. Then, I encourage him to visualize his wife in his mind’s eye. When he has a clear image of her, we talk more about what he might hear and see when he’s with her. I then encourage him to imagine letting her walk away from him. I encourage him to be present with any thoughts that come up and anything he feels in his body. He says his chest feels tight and he feels like he should go with her. I ask what it would be like if he didn’t have to do anything in this moment; if he could just let his wife do what she wants and if he allowed himself to just continue to be present. Earl says he feels some guilt about “letting her go”. I encourage him to stay present with the guilt and to allow himself to feel this natural feeling, and to continue to stay present and just be. Earl is encouraged to continue this visualization a few times on his own and we’d practice again together in a future session.
This mindful experience won’t “cure” Earl. But the intention of mindfulness, increasing acceptance and letting go, is to ease the tensions and loosen up the need to mindlessly and automatically control a vulnerable situation in Earl’s life. This approach is also one part of an integrated treatment strategy. Indeed, we’ll look at integrated approaches around self-compassion and vulnerability in the third part of this essay. Therapy may also include a process of Earl more fully grieving the loss of his mother. It may lead to some couples work between Earl and his wife, and may help his wife seek help for her trauma and substance abuse. There may be some issues to explore and address with Earl around his work environment.
In closing, ask yourself, what am I trying to control in my life? How attached am I to controlling that issue? What areas require control and which am I gripping too tightly? What emotions are behind the areas of excessive control? Can I accept these feelings more fully and then decide that I don’t need to do anything with these feelings but instead can let them run their course? I can just breathe and accept them without needing to do something with them. And then, if needed, find a good therapist 🙂
If you want to discuss further or have any questions, email me at drryandweatherford@gmail.com.
Dr. Ryan's Writings 