I was listening to Glennon Doyle talk about her relationship with her body and food and she made revealing points about how she tried to control most of her life because she didn’t trust.
It made so thoughtful about my relationship with my extended family, my partner, my child but most of all my mind. Luckily for me, over the past ten years, through struggle and strife I have educated myself into at least faking trust and not controlling until I made it. I still feel the pull of controlling each time I learn about someone in my family struggling – because, you know, I have all the answers. It takes me a tough workout, tapping or meditations to keep my controlling instincts at bay and wait for the green light: the actual ask for help.
I also became thoughtful about the part of me that I continue to control with every breath I take: my mind. For the longest time, my homework in therapy has been to not do, not work, not listen to talks and lessons, not brainstorm, just be. It is surprising to me how scary this still is for me. Especially in times of quarantine I feel myself suffering from a version of FOMO which is becoming pathological. Planning every moment of every day, making sure there is an outcome for every activity I do, pairing up activities I can (like cooking and listening to podcasts or speaking on the phone). The moment I got blisters in my ears because of too much use of my headphones was an awakening- short lived. I switched to paper books and a different type of headphones.
Adam Grant talks about replacing FOMO with JOMO – replacing the fear of missing out with the joy of missing out. Right now, for me, this is land far, far away. I already am feeling my control telling my mind: ok, sleeves up brain, you have to make a JOMO plan, draft out specific results and contingency plans for failure moments. Ugh!