For the past few months, as I’ve watched events in the news get increasingly worrisome (devastating fires wiping out wildlife in Australia, impeachment proceedings in the U.S., unrest and protest in Hong Kong, etc.) I’ve noticed my desire for control creeping in. This usually manifests, for me, as incredulous ruminations like, How is this even happening?? Why aren’t we doing more to address this?! This person is just plain wrong!
For many folks, feeling out of control is associated with feeling unsafe–unless you’re the type of person who raises their arms in the air while riding a roller coaster and find the lack of control exciting–but even then, the context of that situation is different from what scientists are loudly warning about the anticipated consequences of climate change. Seeking control can therefore be viewed as an attempt to create feelings of safety. However, obsessively thinking about ways to gain control–especially in situations where control is impossible–often exacerbates stress and anxiety.
As I grit my teeth and get frustrated about how the world isn’t going according to MY plans, or why this person I know isn’t acting the way I think they should, I start to feel helpless and small. Until I come across the occasional reminder that not only do I not have that kind of power…I also don’t carry that much responsibility.
Ram Dass, a famed spiritual teacher and psychologist well known for researching psychedelics at Harvard in the 1960s, passed away on December 22, 2019. Immediately after, my social media feeds began to sprout some of his most famous quotes in remembrance. One of them expressed a brilliant and playful perspective on turning judgment into acceptance and appreciation. Ram Dass said,
“When you go out into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree.
The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You are too this, or I’m too this.’ That judgment mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”
When we start to view people (including ourselves) and situations through this lens of understanding and acceptance, we let go of the need to fix, manage, and control. Where we once felt tension and impatience, we notice peace and perhaps even a half smile starting to appear on our face.
Another example that reminded me of this quote came up recently when I was having a stressful day and I came home from work and wanted to watch an episode of Fuller House, the Netflix reboot of one of my favorite childhood family sitcoms. My partner doesn’t usually join me when I watch Fuller House, because he wonders how I could possibly enjoy something so corny and unrealistic. (“Could the characters on that show even afford the property taxes of that huge house in San Francisco? What jobs are they supposed to have?” he recently asked me.) I understand his perspective, and I offered mine to him, anyway. “Of course it doesn’t have the depth and layers of Barry. It doesn’t even have the biting wit or oddball humor of The Good Place. But I’m not looking for that. I enjoy it because it’s nostalgic. It’s clever in how it incorporates pop culture references that bridge generations, and it doesn’t require much thought or emotional investment. It’s easy. I appreciate it for what it is, instead of wanting it to be something else.” He watched an episode with me that evening, and I even caught him smirking at some of the jokes!
Many members of Alcoholics Anonymous have understood this concept for a long time. In the Big Book (basic text of AA), there’s a quote toward the back in the personal stories that is frequently highlighted and printed on bookmarks or posters. It goes like this:
“And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation “some fact of my life” unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.”
Adopting this attitude can bring quick relief. For me, it’s a reminder that I alone am not responsible for solving the world’s problems. Sometimes it takes a large scale event that acts as a “wake up call” before lasting change can happen…and I don’t have the ability to see the future. I see that I am indeed small in the grand scheme of life, but in a comforting way where I still have a place and a purpose. I can practice recycling, minimize the waste I produce in my home, and rely more on public transportation and walking. Similarly, I can call my legislators to voice my concerns, donate to political candidates that I support, and encourage everyone I know to vote in local and national elections. If I’m trying to get along better with a family member who gets on my nerves, perhaps the times I feel especially annoyed are opportunities for me to practice setting healthier boundaries or extending radical compassion. In these ways I can feel empowered and know that I’m actively doing my small part to work toward long-term change.
For others, especially those who have experienced trauma or who identify as victims, it can be trickier, or even harmful, to suggest practicing acceptance before regaining a sense of empowerment and if the timing isn’t right. For my next blog entry in April, I’ll write more about the importance of maintaining boundaries so that we can find more acceptance in life.