This is what I am trying to do now: I am attempting to control myself to not be controlling anymore. Get it?
Just recently, I finally had the chance to read the philosophy book my sister had recommended for the longest time. It was titled the Art of Living, the stoic philosophy of Epictetus. I’m not quite sure if those wiggly cabbages atop your heads could still recall your Philosophy of Man days, but stoics are those people who rid themselves out of human desire and passion, since as they say, these only contribute as hindrances towards man’s ultimate goal of spiritual fulfillment. I think stoicism is an extreme form of defense mechanism, or a simple recipe for a blah life, but you know what, I kind of feel that if one is able to apply the philosophies on a balanced scale, the ideas could well work for a happy existence and a life built on open-mindedness.
From the book on my hand, the first discussion on The Manual really caught my eye. It talked about control. And FYI, for as long as I’ve known myself, which roughly translates to forever, I had been a control freak – a fucking control freak. I hated it when things just seem to be too slow or too far out on my grasps, when what’s happening wouldn’t go along to what I planned or what I hoped for, I get totally paranoid, my mad and ever-helpful brain totally filling my head with all the worst things that could add to everything that’s already gone completely, infuriatingly wrong.
But it was helpful, to some extent really, the discussions on the book. The words so powerful it felt like a blinding light in front of me: trying to control or to change what we can’t only results in torment. I’ve proven it true over and over but hey, thank my system for I practically am one of the most hard-headed people you’ll ever meet, I actually almost go against everything.
And it’s been tough. I mean, it gets to a point where everything is just so fucking tiring, always trying to strike control with everything – and everyone – that whenever things go wrong I get a good run down and my cardiac muscle is just fucking flat out, or pricked, or slashed, or shredded, or minced and pummeled, depending on the amount of obsession I had with the matter, sometimes the pain on my chest so severe, i think it’s fucking driving me to the tips of my sanity!
So I resulted to following what the book says, you know, trying to breathe in and out and exercise some logic before stressing against something, but I must admit it’s awfully hard to train oneself not to worry about matters that’s supposed to be outside your control, because really, that’s what I want, to be in control, how hard is that to understand! But since, it doesn’t seem to do me a lot of good, I am experiencing ambivalence, me against my system. Sigh.
But as I have learned, desire of all sorts are but habits – that could be changed, therefore, it is a must that we learn to master our desires – both a necessity and an obligation, if we are to find peace from within. I must admit, it is a fact, when we desire something that reins out of our control, something that won’t follow our whims no matter how much effort we put in, it is fucking as sure as sunshine in the morning that we’ll be getting hurt.And really, how many things can we really control? I guess pretty much nothing besides our own will and attitude and nothing more with what’s outside our system.
So maybe I’m a control freak on a scale of 147 out of 100. But I’m telling you, it’s more maddeningly insane to try to control yourself to stop being fucking controlling! It’s killing me in suffocation!
Oxygen! I can’t breathe! Somebody hand me a fucking O2 mask!