Control as a Motivator to Clean House
Yesterday, I participated in a discussion meeting focused on the concept of control, which led me to deeply reflect on its meaning. Through years of self-discovery, therapy, and 12-step programs, I’ve come to understand a fundamental truth:
There is always a lesson I am meant to learn in the present moment. When I feel the urge to control a situation, it often arises from an inner negative narrative or a personal struggle—perhaps even an unresolved or misunderstood memory from the past that feels like a threat.
These perceived threats and internal chaos create a compulsion to control the situation. When I am not spiritually grounded, my typical response is to cling to being “right.” However, I’ve learned that the key to calming the chaos is surrender. In these moments, I reconnect with my inner self, look for clues, and ask essential, grounding questions.
A Transformative Example
Here’s an example from today. Because I had already reflected on the concept of control, the outcome was transformative:
I received a phone call from a longtime friend of my husband’s and mine. He began by saying, “I’ve been trying to avoid this.” Instantly, I felt the need to protect myself and gain control. My mind registered a perceived threat, and my body instinctively went into defense mode. With a start like that, I anticipated the conversation would likely stir up some internal chaos for me. These sensations—perceived threats and internal chaos—are familiar and closely tied to my need to be “right” in some way.
He went on to inform me that, after 49 years, he would be revoking our privilege to purchase Seahawks tickets from the group block because we had apparently broken certain rules. I paused to absorb his words, feeling tense and uncomfortable. My mind interpreted his statement as an accusation, and my ego whispered, “I must have done something wrong.” I took a moment to reflect, seeking a spiritual perspective.
After grounding myself through a few deep breaths and connecting with my spirit, I asked myself some important questions. Was there room for discussion? The answer was no. I also asked whether this situation was truly significant to me. Though I felt hurt and confused, I no longer cared about the tickets. Most importantly, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. At that moment, I decided the best course of action was to end the conversation and return to the present moment. I simply accepted the terms and ended the call.
Finding Closure
Reflecting on why this interaction hurt so much, I recognized there were many layers to unpack. Yet, in that moment—and even now as I write—I know it doesn’t really matter. This isn’t a relationship I want to maintain. Vibrationally, we are different, and the lesson for me is recognizing my preferences. This situation felt like closure—a final chapter in relationships I had primarily maintained for my husband’s sake and because of where we lived. It feels as though that chapter is coming to an end.
I’m reminded of a saying that has always resonated with me:
“When one door closes, a window opens.”
Possibly, the correct quote reads “a door opens,” but I have always thought of it as a window because I must be present to see it. It’s simply a natural part of life.
Understanding the Need for Control
During the conversation, I became acutely aware of my overwhelming need to regain stability. Once I reconnected with my spirit, I focused on where I felt discomfort in my body. My heart and stomach are typically the areas where I feel I’ve done something wrong. Then I asked myself: What about this situation reminds me of a time in my life when I experienced similar fear, insecurity, or chaos? As a child, I learned that doing everything “as I should” seemed to gain love and approval. Thinking I had done something wrong triggered this memory.
Needing to be right is often a clear indicator that an old insecurity is at play, creating a dynamic where one person must be right and the other wrong. In reality, this black-or-white perspective isn’t true—there are often multiple factors at play. What I’ve come to understand is that being right or wrong doesn’t ease the need to control or calm the chaos. Furthermore, I love how Peter Crone puts it:
“Being right is the poor man’s version of happiness.”
The ultimate answer to calming the chaos, I’ve realized, is surrender.
Surrender and Self-Compassion
Supporting my inner child in this moment, I placed my hands over my heart and stomach and gave myself the nurturing I needed, whispering: “Oh, honey, I love you. You are precious and worthy of all the love in the world. Calmness is within reach.” Asking myself, “What are you afraid of? Why do you need to be right?” often reveals the source of the chaos and the need to control.
What I know for sure is that when I truly relinquish control and surrender, I often find that situations unfold in ways far better than I could have imagined. I now view the urge to control as a motivator—a gentle nudge to stay present and “clean house.”
Reflecting on these experiences weeks later, I am frequently amazed by how much more favorable the outcomes are compared to what I initially envisioned. This realization fills me with excitement and joy, as I await the resolution, knowing that surrender often leads to the only true “right” action.