A lack of control

This week has been a trying one.  I've been fending off the second round of a cold I had 2 weeks ago.  My knee still hurts.  I haven't made it to yoga as much as I'd like to.  And life in the classroom has been a challenge, to say the least.  I haven't been sleeping very well, and I'm counting down the days until Thanksgiving Break...even though the weekend seems to be filling up with more plans than I'd actually like to have.

When I have weeks like these, what bothers me the most is how I feel as though I completely lose my sense of control.  Which is kind of a big deal to me.

I'm a person who needs to be in control.  And when I feel as though I've lost it, circuits in my brain go a little haywire, throwing my emotions, stress level, and ability to focus completely out of whack.

It feels very much like this inside my head.

I realize that having an obsessive need for control is not always the healthiest way to live, but I typically try live with this desire in only the healthiest of ways.  I find that the majority of the time, it works out pretty well for me.  And we all have our faults, right?  This is one of mine.

So when weeks like this happen, when all that surrounds me seems to be spinning into chaos, I have to slow myself down.  I have to decompress, take a deep breath, and remind myself of the things that I can control.  Because, in my life, while there are a lot of things that I can't control, there are also a lot of things that I can.

I can't control which children walk through my classroom door each morning.  I can't control the home lives they come to me from.  I can't control the social, emotional, academic, or physical problems they carry with them.  I can't control whether or not they are sick, or if they got enough sleep last night.  I can't control if they are bathed, or fed, or if they did their homework.

But I can control my reactions to all the baggage they bring with them.  I can stop telling myself "If only things at home would just get better," because more often than not, that won't happen.  I can try my best to make the classroom environment a safe, welcome place for them.  I can try to teach them the best way I know how, working together with children through any struggles that may arise.  I can choose compassion over frustration and anger.  I can choose to smile, even when smiling is the last thing I want to do.  I can choose to try my best, because that's the best I can do.  And when I finally leave the classroom at the end of the day, I can choose to leave those children and all their baggage behind me in the classroom.  Because as much as I love them, I love myself too.  And I can't spend all my waking hours worrying about all the parts of my job that I can't control.

I can't control this slowly creeping chest cold.  When I wake up in the morning, and my throat hurts or my nose is running, I can't snap my fingers and make myself better.

But I can control how I deal with it.  I can drink my Emergen-C twice a day.  I can sip hot tea all day long.  And I can try my best to get enough sleep to let whatever it is that's trying to sneak up on me pass through my body as quick as can be.

I can't control my still-painful knee.  I can't control the pain that radiates down the outside when I run, and sometimes even walk.  I can't make the pain go away by getting angry or frustrated with it.

But I can try my best to work through it and treat it nicely.  I can be a good girl and go to the doctor (PT appointment #2 coming up this weekend).  I can ice it (currently in progress).  I can foam roll, no matter how much it hurts.  And I can choose to run as best as I can, accepting and being happy with what I can do now.  Because I can still go out there and run.  And that is a gift.

I can't control the fact that running as much as I want to isn't a possibility right now.  Running, my solid rock, my stress reliever, my center for control when I feel I've lost it, can't be a huge part of my weekly routine right now.  I can't control the fact that after over a month of little to no running, I feel winded after just a mile or two.  I can't control the fact that running more than 2 or 3 times a week is all I can do.

But I can control what I do instead.  I can keep at it the few times I do make it out to run.  I can rejoice in the fact that those short, easy runs are perfect for getting Lucy back into running shape.  I can find other ways to relieve stress and find my center.  Like yoga.  And writing.  And wine.

And petting this lady.

There are a lot of things in my life I can't control.  Probably about 75% of what happens in my world is out of my control.

But I can control how I react to and deal with those things which I can't control.  I can choose to accept what life throws at me.  I can choose to see good where it doesn't seem like there is any.  Because there is always something good.  No matter how small.  I can choose to let the little things roll off my shoulders.  I can choose to let them go.  I can choose to not get upset about things that I can't control.  Because, obviously, I can't control it.  So why waste all the energy getting frustrated or upset?  The question is, what will I do next now that I'm faced with this situation?  And I choose to breathe deep, relax, and move on from here.  Because there are really only two choices: to get stuck or move forward.  And I choose to move forward.  Moving forward is what I do best.

In the wise words of one of my favorite authors:

~Kevin Henkes