Control... or lack thereof.

So last night we had a lovely girls night, and for a short while Maggie, Marcy, and I found ourselves laying about the living room talking about the concept of control. What we realized was that everything is all wrong.

All the while you're growing up, you're being taught (whether intentionally or not) to believe that when you're an adult, you will have control in your life. My life as a teacher in a classroom of toddler revolves around avoiding power struggles by giving them control. Over small things, mind you... Do you want to sit in a blue chair or a red chair, should we sing 5 little monkeys or 5 little ducks, etc, but still, giving them control. Throughout your childhood you have very little control over your environment. The adults around you remind you that when you're all grown up, you can make the calls. All your life you look forward to being all grown up and having that control over your life.

You enter grown-up life, whatever that is for you. For those of us present last night, it's post-college life. No longer is it acceptable to eat ramen 3 meals a day, 7 days a week. No longer can you invite all your friends over on a whim that very night and have them all show up and party with you. No, now, you have to give them a week's notice and hope that they won't be too exhausted by their work week by the time you get to that night. But why? Why are we so exhausted by 40 hour work weeks on (at least fairly) regular schedules when we had all the energy in the world taking 15-18 credits a semester and working (at least) part time and writing 5 papers a week? When we were doing that we could stay up til 3 am and wake up at 8 am and get through the day no problem, but now we work 8 hours and come home and eat dinner and veg in front of the TV until 9 o'clock bedtime. What happened to us?

I think what happened to us is that we are under the illusion that now that we are living adult lives, we are in control. But really... we aren't. The vast majority of things we encounter on a daily basis are out of our control. We're exhausted from trying to control things that we can't possibly control, from convincing ourselves that we can, from trying to find ways that we can, and from exercising extra control over the things that we can concretely see. I can control what time I go to bed. I can control what I eat for breakfast. I can't control what the traffic will be like on my way to work, I can't control the 80 year old man in front of me or the state cop behind me the whole way out to Foster. I can't control whether the children in my class slept well last night and ate balanced breakfasts. I can't control the moods of my coworkers, I can't control the speed with which lunch gets prepared, I can't control the bowel movements of two year olds or the abilities of diapers to contain them. I can't control the weather to allow us to get outside. I can't control what time parents arrive to pick up their children. I can't control the traffic on the ride home. I can control how I react to all these things, but that's it. If I don't love my situation, I can try to change it, but even that I have limited control over. I can apply for new jobs, I can dress to impress for my interview and know my facts inside and out, but if another applicant is twice as qualified as me... I can't control that. I just have to accept it. I can't control how other people feel about me. I can influence it, but I can't do it. I can't control the way other people spend their time to conform to how I want to spend it with them. I can influence it, but that's it.

ALMOST EVERYTHING IS OUT OF MY CONTROL. And the same goes for you.

It's terrifying.

It's also liberating and exhilarating.

New life goal: Just Let Go.

5 months since graduation, but the learning never stops... Continued, 23 months after graduation.

Original Post: http://megsjourneys.blogspot.com/2008/10/5-months-since-graduation-but-learning.html

And since subbing at sweet Early Learning Center:

• become frustrated with lack of grown opportunities and being underutilized and, in general, get bored
• halfheartedly search for other jobs in Early Childhood Ed
• accidentally find one that seems awesome and pays *relatively* well
• learn that I was right in the first place about not wanting to teach.

I still love the kids, don't get me wrong. But teaching isn't the right avenue for me. At this point, I'm still not really sure. Early Intervention? Maybe. But maybe not. All I know is I have to be in a position to truly help children that genuinely need it, and smaller groups are definitely more my style. Also, I have found that I really need to be surrounded by people who are as devoted to what they're doing as I am. I have a ton of energy for what I do, but I can't sustain it unless I can feed off the positive energy of those around me. If those around me are only neutral about what they're doing, it's no good.

So off I go again, to the next stop on this journey called life.

revisiting.

Oh Hey, Internet, it's been a while.

I have recently found myself humbled/beside myself/proud to find that the student organization I started at URI my senior year with my best friends is still alive and well. We were a small group then, hardly expanded outside of my social circle, and yet, two years after graduation I stumbled upon the facebook group once again and found it active, enthusiastic, and captained by a complete stranger. Way to go, self, way to take the jump and hope people will jump with you, way to trust a complete stranger to be in control of something so dear to you.

The night it all started, when I begged my friends to come over and watch a documentary that had changed the way I looked at/did everything, I was impressed simply that they broke down and came to watch another sad story about Africa. When the film ended and the first words spoken were "So What Can We Do??" I knew exactly what was next. Schools for Schools, though becoming a fainter memory each day, still ranks up there in my top 5 bravest, proudest accomplishments. With the help of my best friends, I co-founded a non-profit that has to date raised thousands of dollars with the extraordinarily limited resources that are at the hands of poor college kids, plus limitless enthusiasm and energy. And it wasn't until this moment that I look back and can say, "WOW!" It's just a small part of a much larger national organization, but it's a small part that wouldn't have existed were it not for me. I gave presentations in classes at URI, I ran programs in dorms, I gave presentations in high schools, I even gave a presentation for a student group at a university in Canada. I'm overwhelmed with the gravity of it all.

Two years later I miss the apple peeling/cutting/baking that I thought would make me hate apples forever. I miss our statistics bridge. I miss late nights, early mornings, and freezing my butt off. I miss planning a statewide event, I miss the thrill of people actually showing up for a statewide event. I miss our little room in the Memorial Union, I miss the fellowship and team spirit of strangers converging upon a big city for a common cause, I miss the constant churning of my brain.

I miss the part of myself that would throw caution to the wind and book a flight to San Diego that I can't afford, a hotel in San Diego that I can't afford, and put myself in a group of like-minded strangers ready to learn and broaden their sense of everything. I miss constantly making friends with strangers all over the country. And I miss those friends.

I miss knowing how to to make a positive impact on the world every day. I miss not being afraid to dream outrageously.

And yet, all at the same time, I have discovered the beauty of just letting go. Taking a leap and not worrying about whether I'll land on my feet, get caught midair, or fall on my face. It's scary as hell, but I'm not turning back. My love is my whole being.