Control

There are so many things that feel far from my control now. Every day, I wake up in an alien body, and every day, the alien body finds new ways to prevent me from making choices about my actions and emotions. When I come close to peace with the intruder, it morphs into something new and unpredictable– different symptoms and different restrictions. It feels like my illness will always have the upper hand.

In reality, though, there’s very little that’s every under our control. Healthy people were merely gifted healthy bodies through a biological gamble. They learned to use their human vessels, just as I’m learning to use mine. And still, I continue to mourn the abilities my body doesn’t have, as if my obsession will bring them back. People will always wish for more beauty, more strength, longer limbs, and better skin. We grieve for things we don’t even miss, and pity ourselves because we can’t engineer our own bodies and skills.

Why do we turn this into a battle? Why do we fight with the world over our deficits instead of using our gifts? I have been given the gift of life. I am expansive, not limited. My troubled mind, obsessed with control will trick me out of acknowledging such traits. I will master the abilities I have, and I will use them to work with the world, instead of quarrel with it. And when I feel small and insignificant, I will not wish for the control I do not have; instead, I will watch the world move around me, and observe the higher forces of control rather than grieve my lack thereof. I am not too small or powerless, nor do I have control over more than I can handle. I am perfectly placed in a complex system, and I will master the part I’ve been given.

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