Life and I have been stuck in a wrestling match for quite some time now and while I don’t actually understand the rules of wrestling, (Do you? Does anyone?) I think Life might be winning.

The wrestling match is over who gets to be in control. I think I should be, because when I’m in control things go exactly as they’re supposed to. But somehow Life keeps pulling these unexpected maneuvers that leave me pinned to the ground until I slap my palm on the mat in submission.

The Illusion of Control

To say I’m an orderly person may be a bit of an understatement. I have color-coded lists. My counters are clutter-free. My closets are full of labeled containers. I’m on a first name basis with every IKEA storage solution. Even my days off are structured into neat blocks of time, at least on my calender. Creating order out of chaos is what makes me feel calm and in control. I control my surroundings; I control my time; I control the outcome of my life. Things don’t just happen, I make them happen. I’ve invested a lot of time and energy in perpetuating this illusion of control and I really don’t appreciate when it is undermined.

Let me tell you, nothing upends that narrative more quickly than sickness. Myself getting sick, my kids being sick. I don’t know why it catches me off guard every time. I’m a pediatrician; I literally make my living dealing with sickness. Still, that is supposed to take place within the container labeled ‘Hospital’, not in the one labeled ‘Home Life’.

When Life Disagrees

Sadly, Life disagrees. And lately it has disagreed a lot. In December, despite a recent booster shot, my husband came down with Covid and isolated from the rest of us for ninety days. Fine, maybe it was nine days if we’re talking actual, physical time. I felt what any mother would have felt. Envious, because obviously I would have loved the opportunity to isolate from my children. Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to be.

During those nine days, my three-month-old- like seemingly every other young child that month- developed RSV. I spent my nights listening to him wheeze and counting out his respiratory rate to determine whether we needed to give my colleagues in the overflowing Emergency Departments a visit. (Thankfully, we were spared the experience. Waiting times were six to eight hours and patients were being transferred to hospitals hundreds of miles away due to a shortage of pediatric beds.)

Shortly after we had all recovered, Influenza came knocking, just in time for Christmas. I started the New Year supercharged by that ‘I’m-not-sick-anymore’ feeling, only to be knocked down a few days later by a GI bug, a late Christmas gift from my seven-year-old. There are times when I have no choice but to admit that Life has won that round.

Looking for the Lesson

One of the coping mechanisms I’ve developed when setbacks occur is to look for the lesson. Is Life whispering something worth listening to more closely? Or has it been whispering and has now resorted to shouting because I refuse to hear the message? (I don’t know what that’s about, I always speak to my children calmly.)

I have an idea what the lesson might be.

The Shadow Side of Control

There is a shadow side to being in control. It means I have to get it right all the time or things will be out of control. Control and perfectionism go hand in hand. I have to be perfect to keep everything on track. There is no room for error. And not only do I need to get everything right, everyone around me has to play their roles perfectly as well to support my narrative of control.

At home, this can result in me transmitting that same perfectionism onto my children, to risk teaching them that anything less is unacceptable. At work, an obsession with being in control often leads to micromanaging and judging others when they fall short of your (unrealistically high) expectations. I may think I am demonstrating my commitment to the best possible outcomes, when what I’m really doing is alienating others and undercutting their ability to contribute.

Control versus Connection

Perfection is such a compelling ideal, because when I do manage to meet the mark, it feels like I’ve finally reached the summit after an arduous climb. But it also creates a hierarchy in which value and worthiness is determined by how close one comes to achieving it. And because it’s often a moving target, we’re usually setting ourselves (and others) up for failure.

If you asked me what my values are, you wouldn’t hear me mention Control or Perfectionism. You would hear words like Connection, Compassion and Growth. And the truth is those cannot happily coexist. As Brené Brown so wisely concludes: control is the near enemy of connection. It may feel good to reach the top, but you’re on that summit alone.

Heading off Path

The other problem with the illusion of control is that it assumes I know what the outcome is meant to look like. But what if I’m wrong? What if my tightly scripted version of life leaves no room for bigger, better or more beautiful things than I may have imagined for myself? We don’t know what we don’t know.  

I’m reminded of a recent conversation with my sister, who loves to go on weekend hikes with her family. Like me, my sister is a woman with a plan and in this case the plan was to complete a five mile hike before heading back home to the next activity on the weekend schedule. My seven-year-old nephew, on the other hand, unencumbered by the familial planning tendencies, had fallen behind, digging around in the twigs and dead leaves that littered the ground.

‘Mommy, look!’ he called. My sister, bent on completing the hike, told him to catch up. ‘No, look! Look at what I found!’ he insisted. Finally, my sister headed over to where he knelt on the damp earth. Hidden under the layer of fallen leaves was an intricate formation of ice crystals spanning the forest floor, like a buried treasure suddenly revealed. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ she told me. ‘It was so beautiful. And not at all part of the plan to complete the hike and head back in time.’ Without my nephew’s insistence, she would never have stopped, never have looked more closely, never have seen the beauty hidden right in her path.

Sometimes those insistent voices that call us off path- the ones that get in the way of the outcome we are so confidently marching toward- are the markers that point us to something even greater.

Relinquishing the Reins

All of this is not to say I am now so enlightened that I am willing to relinquish the reins altogether and see what happens. I’m still wrestling with Life. But every once in a while, with my arms pinned to my back and my face to the ground I can say: Okay, Life, you win. I’m listening.

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What does feeling in control look like in your life? Was there a time when you gained something from losing control? I love to hear how others are navigating control, please share!