It must hit me in the face for me to write about something. I can’t just open the laptop and expect my fingertips to pour its emotions on the keyboard. Otherwise, it’ll be a fake piece that I wrote for the sake of others, and not for my heart to speak up through genuine written words. But because I’m an A1 control freak, I find it hard to put “write a post” on my task-list and be okay with it not being done.
This is an accurate depiction of my struggle with craving to control every single detail of my life and to never let go of anything without a fight. But it doesn’t work that way because it’s tiring and leaves a significant burden on my back that I know I can never bare.
It became too much to bare until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed an exit out of this trap I created with my own hands. I knew that my only option was to practice The Art of Surrender and always remember that…
when I become aware that I’m in control mode, I imagine that I’m in a small boat paddling upstream, against the current. It’s hard. It’s a fight. That’s what control mode feels like to me. When I choose to let go and surrender, I visualize the boat turning around, me dropping the oars, and floating downstream.
Letting go isn’t easy. I’ve always thought that the token for success was to take charge of what happens in my life, which drove me to try hard to achieve my goals depending on my knowledge, skills, and experiences. Little did I know that I was just another spectator of God’s magic pulling back the curtain of the fabulous play of my life.
So I’ll spectate the play with pride. I’ll never think about how things must or should be. I’ll always believe that what’s unfolding before my eyes is glamorous and bright because I simply deserve it. But this time, I want to “drop the oars.”