About Control

Post 76:

            Isn’t there a thing they say at AA meetings? I’ll paraphrase, and this is going off what I’ve seen in movies and on TV: “Give me the strength to deal with such and such, the wisdom to let the other stuff go…” I think that’s the general idea behind it. Makes sense, I suppose. Seems kind of obvious, but the obvious things are sometimes the hardest to get through your head. It’s obviously not wise to drink so much that you end up having to go to awkward meetings with strangers, but alas, the meetings are full, the rehabs centers burst with new initiates everyday.

            I’ll get off the subject of alcoholism. It’s nothing to joke about or use tangentially to make my points, especially since I’ve had three glasses of scotch. Kidding.

            That thing they say about control and letting go is what I’m about at the moment. First of all, pretty sure one of the big problems the human race has is in thinking we have more control than we do. The grip on life is utterly and almost completely tenuous. Our constructed controls are illusory. It’s chaos in spades, and denial seems to be one of our favorite defenses.

            I’ve heard it said that works of art, say a building, a book, a concert, they’re vain attempts for humankind to rise above the great sea of uncertainty. I’ve got no problem with that explanation, actually. When I sit down at the computer, I have two basic choices. I can lose myself on YouTube or Twitter or some news site, watch videos and read articles about things that are mental light years away from my control. Or I can create something. Something that I can control. The people will say only what I make them say, the narrative will only be that which I imagine and put down.

            I don’t know the right or wrong of it. I know it feels better to have some semblance of control, but perhaps it’s a perversion of the real thing. It’s ironic; that’s for sure. Creating things that aren’t “real” to fight back against reality and it’s limitless possibilities and pitfalls. I’ve read a lot of philosophy about artistic endeavors, but like all philosophies, none are complete. And so it goes.

            Then there’s the nobility of letting go. Accepting that you are at best throwing wads of paper at a great leviathan that will eventually swallow you and the rest of us without mercy. There is a sort of bravery in accepting that, though it’s tougher—I think. Probably different for everyone. Maybe I’m just a stick in the mud, or maybe I’ve read Ecclesiastes too many times. That book is like life. Sometimes I look at it and despair. Other times I’ll scan the exact same text and take away hope.

            Freaking life. It’s out of control. Guess them’s the facts. Guess we all need our own philosophy to deal. We’re all philosophers, by the way. There’s no escaping it, because there is no escape. Geez. What a downer.

            Screw it. I’m going to go watch TV. I shall don the power of the remote and control what goes into my brain for the next few hours. Small victories.

            See you after.