Have We Ever Thought About It?

I think maturity begins when we no longer repeat, and unquestioningly buy-into, the “things we’ve always heard.”

Copyright Barb Harwood

Giving Up Controlling Tendencies

What does it mean to give up control?

It took me a while to think this through. And what came to mind is that control is tied to relevance. 

So, as long as I am contributing, I am feeding my need to be relevant—to be of use, to have purpose, to be needed.

And control is the worst kind of contributing.

But, one might ask, no matter how bad a controlling tendency can be, wouldn't it be worse to lose relevancy? 

Many of us must think so, since many of us have a controlling tendency or two (or three or four!)

But what if, in fact, relevancy is not tied to control? What if, in actuality, relevancy is negated through control?

If that’s the case, and I now believe it to be, then the very thing I’ve been afraid of losing by giving up control is or already has been lost!

So then relevancy isn’t tied to control—it’s tied to giving up control.

That’s because when the irritating habit of control is removed, respect, and maybe even admiration—relevance—can take its place.

Why is control so damaging to relevance?

Because control, when it comes down to it, is narcissistic.

It demands to be involved, to be heard, to be listened to and allowed admittance. Even when it doesn’t know best, or have all the answers, control still wants a piece of the action; to not be left out. That’s where control’s “two cents worth” comes in. And that’s two cents too much for most people. And that’s why controlling people never gain the relevance they hope for.

But what if control surrendered?

What if control said, “I’m retiring. I’m done. I’m outta here.”

What will be demanded in its place?

Well, nothing. Because control by its very nature is the thing that demands. 

Absent of control, we are free from the narcissism of needing to be needed, and the inner demand to be perceived as superior, knowledgeable, and right. 

We no longer thirst for acknowledgement, gratitude, influence or other people’s submission.

We remove ourselves from the equation that is other people’s lives. 

And if we are ever asked for help or advice, we respond within the singular boundary of that specific inquiry or instance—nothing more. We do not volunteer more of ourselves than is desired by the other person.

Once we understand control as a narcissistic trait, we can begin to disarm it through discerning our motivations. 

Why am I buying these unasked-for clothes for my grandchild?

Why am I suggesting solutions or trying to fix people’s problems when all they want is for me to listen quietly? 

Why am I jumping in to help when those around me are more than capable of solving a problem on their own (such as finding the large soup spoon in the utensil drawer without my getting it for them?)

We can also begin to watch for instances of control in others as a way to detect it more clearly in ourselves: 

When we see another spouse correcting their partner over petty details.

When one sibling interrupts and takes over another sibling’s conversation at a family gathering.

When a mom becomes short with her child because the cookies or cake aren’t being decorated “just so.”

When a co-worker admonishes another co-worker for putting the plastic cups to the right of the water cooler instead of to the left.

When a bitter argument grows out of a mundane mishap. 

Being on the lookout for control in others is one way to point the finger right back at ourselves and admit, “I do that too.”

But then to also seriously admit:

“I no longer want to ‘do that too!’”

That’s when we know we are ready to exchange the low self-esteem of narcissistic control for the quiet, mature confidence of humbly letting go.

That means we allow other people to make their own mistakes; we remain silent when not consulted; we don’t show up with unwanted gifts and items; we don’t make rude and critical comments about the way someone else is completing a task, raising their children or running their household. 

And in all of it, we acknowledge and accept that we are not our parents and they are not us; we are not our children and they are not us; and we are not our spouse and they are not us. 

In addition, there is rarely just one way of doing anything, and most actions and activities could be accomplished without any commentary at all. 

When we give up control, we opt instead for respect—respect, and trust, that others are capable and worthy and can do just fine without our input. 

And we’re just fine with that. 

Copyright Barb Harwood 

Peter Furler on Money, Fame and Attention

 

“There was a comedian I was reading yesterday, and he was talking about how if money doesn’t have you and fame doesn’t have you, you might be alright. ’Cause they’re like a fire; they’re never satisfied. I think one of the biggest drugs we have on the planet is attention, and that’s a tough one. If you can wean yourself off that one, I think life’s better. And money too, that’s the other thing.”

Peter Furler, Singer, Songwriter and Producer

Acting in the Bias of Self Only

 

Are people of non-faith free from the objective reality that they, too, are hypocrites, evangelists to their cause, narrow minded, dogmatic, naive, and dishonest? 

Of course not. They are just as complicit as people of faith.

Individuals and groups do all sorts of bad things when they claim they are any number of identities. 

But in reality, when people do hurtful, evil things, they do them in the name of themselves only, regardless of what they pay lip service to verbally.

People can blame God for any number of infractions, but in the end, it isn’t God, but people, who misbehave, commit the crimes and lack integrity.

Copyright Barb Harwood

Jesus Leveled the Playing Field of Personality

Why is it that the quiet ones, the behind-the-scenes ones, the not-as-social ones, are somehow deemed aloof and prideful while those carrying the very opposite traits go about in their heads justified? 

Those with many friends, adults and children alike, are judged to be “well-adapted and adjusted,” while the thoughtful book readers, nature-explorers and non-“engagers” are somehow uncaring and not worthy of esteem.

But then a baby born in a manger or cave of some sort, who grew up in a lowly village, quietly learning and practicing a trade, arrives in our thoughts every year at Christmas. 

Small, vulnerable, meek and mild, the baby, as an adult, continued to not stand out, to the point that when stirrings began around him, people scratched their heads and asked, 

“Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?” 

Jesus went on to be a public speaker. 

He was surrounded by people. 

But he didn’t become their expectations. 

He remained the humble, thoughtful man that he had been all of his life. 

He surrounded himself with twelve close workers in the spreading of his Father’s message. He tapped into men of all stripes: loud, stubborn, energetic; but also quiet, unassuming, and serving so much in the background that people today struggle to remember some of their names. 

Jesus purposely and trustingly “sent” them all, though. He didn’t leave any of the twelve out. 

He used every quality they brought to the party, and never singled out one personality type as being worthier than others. 

Jesus deflected fame, fortune, and popularity and didn't succumb to peer pressure to do what others expected and to be how other people so wished he would be.

He remained true to who he was, in spite of mockery and judgement.

In thirty-three years, Jesus grew up into the very man God intended. And because of that, sin was overcome and a place for each and every person ever born was made, not just on earth, but in heaven too.

Copyright Barb Harwood

Midnight Clear

 

Many of us can sing the opening line, “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” to the hymn of the same name, only to have our voice trail off, or revert to humming the remainder of the song.

So I took some time this morning to read the lyrics in full, and was amazed at the portrait drawn there, one I had never visualized before:

Angels arriving through cloven skies, bending near the earth with wings unfurled—hovering—all the while singing and touching their harps of gold.

What a majestic, unobservable picture!

And while one could have a discourse long into the night regarding angels, one can, at minimum, metaphorically grasp the calm reassurance such an image holds for a “weary world.”

But perhaps one would have to actually become weary in order to appreciate the atmospheric possibility of rejoicing; to willingly forgo the modus operandi of being sick and tired. 

Perhaps one would have to first acknowledge that being disgruntled much of the time with things one can’t control is not a very productive way to live out one's precious days.

What if we could begin instead to “see” angelic grace and calm fortitude, to the point where fed-upness melts away? 

What if we let our guard down, not just with one heavenly guardian, but the whole lot of them; an innumerable choir, a multitude, an un-armed legion of them—they that come “swiftly on the wing” to sing over the earth’s “Babel” of “sounds!”

What if we allowed—invited—angels to sing over (drown out) our own babel, from our very own mouth?

Believe in them or not, can we believe in what they herald: relief, contentment, inner quietness, goodwill, unsentimental and non-politicized hope?

Can we imagine, angel or no, the symbolism of them breaking into our world for real?

We can close our eyes and bring these celestial beings to life, letting them alight on our souls so that our lips lay down their diatribes and our hearts surrender their haughty offense.

Maybe we can’t believe in actual divine spirits with feathered appendages.

But can we buy-into what they represent?

And if we do believe in angels, can we receive their ministrations and spread their message--one directly dispatched to us “from heaven’s all gracious King” Himself?

Tonight, envision the angels, with wings spread—over your worst enemy, all of your regrets and multiple worries. Be reminded also as they resound memories of joy. 

Feel their movement in the air, the strength and vitality in their presence, the glory of their song, and the midnight of their clarity into humanity’s attainable “glad and golden hours.”

Copyright Barb Harwood

Grace

The following is from the band U2’s website. It’s the back story to one of my favorite songs, followed by the lyrics (I especially like how, though it is Bono's generalized belief that "the universe operates by karma," grace personified in his song overcomes the tit-for-tat modus operandi of it).

From the website:

“Grace is a theme that Bono latched onto in his later years. Grace can have many meanings. The grace of god, someone's name and simply being in someone's 'good graces'.

With this song from All That You Can't Leave Behind, grace is possibly best described as a character that has an empirical quality about them, almost godlike.

Indeed, when Bono's lyric refers to Grace carrying a pearl Bono is referenceing the following passage from the Bible, Matthew 13:45–46:

'Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it'

Of the character in the song, Bono has actually said: 

‘"There are a couple of my favourite people rolled into that lyric but the most important thing is that they personify my favourite word in the lexicon of the English language. It's a word I'm depending on. The universe operates by Karma, we all know that. For every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. There is atonement built in: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Then enters Grace and turns that upside down. I love it.”'


Lyrics


Grace, she takes the blame

She covers the shame

Removes the stain

It could be her name

Grace, it's the name for a girl

It's also a thought that could change the world

And when she walks on the street

You can hear the strings

Grace finds goodness in everything



Grace, she's got the walk

Not on a ramp or on chalk

She's got the time to talk

She travels outside of karma, karma

She travels outside of karma

When she goes to work

You can hear the strings

Grace finds beauty in everything



Grace, she carries a world on her hips

No champagne flue for her lips

No twirls or skips between her fingertips

She carries a pearl in perfect condition

What once was hurt

What once was friction

What left a mark no longer stings

Because Grace makes beauty

Out of ugly things

Grace finds beauty in everything

Grace finds goodness in everything'