Thursday, April 18, 2013

Why do I see what I see at this angle?

It's funny how to me, sitting in the passenger seat is discomforting--if your spouse drives *ahem* assertively like mine does, you'll find it especially discomforting--but I'm realizing that in this and other situations, point of view is the thing. Perspective--what seems faster from a different angle, but is not (looking at the speedometer I realize he's going as fast as I ever do)--changes my attitude and makes me anxious. Not being in control is part of it: I am not the master of my destiny in that situation. Then again, who is?

When I realized how this lack of control works on me, I found in other situations the same sort of thing. The duality of control and chaos, its communion, is what seems to make our world go round. Everything from relationships to illness to world peace seems to revolve around who gets to control and who must surrender.

It's both a despicable and desirable thing, surrender. Just depends on perspective. When I surrendered my body to the fact it had miscarried, I was able to carry through, to see my body do what it was supposed to do. I did experience pain, and sorrow, and regret, and still do, but the actual act of surrender in this case taught me to consider what's out of our hands. It forced me, really. It was reality to face. Surrender led to my being made new.

That's the funny thing about reality: when it hits you in the gut, you sit up and take notice, fight back, take stock, and ultimately consider what's precious. Getting knocked off my feet always does that to me. I know different people have different reactions to suffering, and resist surrender, and sometimes justifiably grapple with the Almighty over the whys. I do too. In the end, there's always something that crawls out from underneath the mess and surprises. There's no telling what you might learn about the mysteries of least, once you've given into their care, once you have seen the power of good and love rise up against the burden of sorrow.

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