The Illusion of Control

"You are afraid of surrender because you don't want to lose control. But you never had control; all you had was anxiety." - Elizabeth Gilbert

I was reminded of this quote in the couple of weeks leading up to the birth of my daughter.

My wife and I took the week off work before her due date, hoping—and expecting—she would come around then. Then one week became two. Every morning I woke up wondering if this would be the day my life changed. Every night, it hadn't. I could feel my relaxed vibe slowly turning into anxiety. My need for control was coming up.

At first, I was enjoying finally having time to myself—to read, relax, and get outside. I even got a lot of house and yard projects done. But as time continued to pass with no certainty about when my life was going to change, I started to struggle. Every morning I'd look at our packed hospital bags and wonder how much longer we'd be waiting.

I tried to see it as another lesson in what I view as a lifelong practice of learning to let go of control, surrender, and trust. And just when I thought this round of the lesson was coming to an end, I was wrong. Oh, how I was wrong.

I think the universe—and our spirit guides—chuckled a bit, with compassion of course, when we set a date for my wife to be induced. Oh, how we humans think we have more control than we do sometimes. There was temporary relief in having an induction date. At least we knew when to finish packing our hospital bags and what night to head to the hospital. We knew when labor would begin. But that was the end of what we knew.

What followed was over 48 hours of labor for my wife and an unplanned C-section three days after we arrived at the hospital. It's possible this was always what the universe had in mind for us to experience with the birth of our daughter. Either way, it tested us both.

You know that point where you feel like you're choosing between laughing and crying, and sometimes you have to laugh so you don't cry? Other times, you cry because you can't find anything funny about it—yet. We were there. But that experience brought my wife and I closer as a team, a team we'd need as we stepped into parenting our daughter.

Now, if you're a parent, you probably know that control isn't something you have much of in those first weeks. You're at the whim of this new human, adjusting from being in the spirit world, then the womb, and now fully in human and earth life. Your child is going through a birth that's about more than the physical labor. They are completing their journey here and anchoring into the human experience. And at the same time, as a parent, we are going through our own rebirth—a reorientation to a whole new identity and life.

And with that came surrender. The more I clung to the life I had before my daughter was born, the more I suffered. Every time. And while it's uncomfortable for me to move from clinging to surrender, I notice something shifts when I stop fighting what is. I experience a little less angst, a little more contentment, and I find myself moving toward peace.

Am I saying I'm in a peaceful place most of the time with a three-week-old? Absolutely not. It's hard out here in newborn land. I'm still in that in-between space where I'm no longer who I was, and I'm still becoming who I am in this next chapter. But I trust that as I continue to surrender to this process, I'll keep moving toward more peace and contentment.

To do that requires me to feel my emotions, sit with myself (when I have the time), and reach out to my support people.

Recently, a mom friend asked me if I'd done any spiritual practices since my daughter was born. At first, my answer was no. I hadn't meditated, opened my Akashic Records, or done any of the practices I usually associate with spirituality.

But then I realized I'd forgotten something. We are inherently spiritual. Sometimes we get so focused on the practices we associate with spirituality that we forget it is woven into our everyday experiences. It can be found in the quiet moments, the pauses, and the ways we are present with ourselves and the world around us.

I had forgotten that my connection with my spirit guides and my own inner wisdom was still there. I had discounted the mornings before the sun rises, sitting in the quiet of my living room with my sleeping daughter. I had overlooked the moments I look outside our big front window at the nature around us, or the brief walks I take.

Those moments are spiritual. They help me connect to something larger than myself, which gives me perspective and helps me loosen my grip on the illusion of control.

Do I have it all figured out? Nope. Have I cracked the code to finding yourself—and staying connected to yourself—while becoming and being a parent? Nope.

But what I have found is another lesson my soul is here to learn. And I'm interested in seeing who I become because of it, if I'm willing to surrender to it.

If you’re in a season of change, transition, or becoming, I’d love to support you in reconnecting with yourself, trusting your inner wisdom, and exploring who you are becoming.

If you feel called to work together, I’d love to connect.