My Security Blanket

Most people like to maintain some degree of control in their lives, or at least hold to the illusion of control. There are many things we can control, but there are many we cannot. Attempting to control every aspect of our lives has major pitfalls, and the truth is that such a goal is unattainable.

The illusion or impossibility of being the complete master of our own destinies, does not stop many from trying. One of the main problems is that we share the world with other people-lots of them, and people cannot be controlled without infringing on their rights. Our choices are seldom made in isolation from the choices of others.

Enough of the philosophy. I accept that to a certain extent I am powerless, and at the mercy of other people's choices, and 'accidents'. However, I do like to control what I can. Enter my security blanket: routine. 

I live alone at the moment, so my home environment is a controlled one in which I stick to certain routines. Moving to a new state meant, among other things, establishing new routines. I did it quickly, or as quickly as I could, and then kept tweaking the plan to make it more efficient. I have a tight rein now on my spending now, for example, because I am here to save money and pay off debt. Last week I came in $50 under my budgeted spend for food and entertainment for the week, and I am still rejoicing.

I feel safe with my routines, and whilst not in bondage to them, I am, in most cases pretty loath to break them. If my routines were a person, I would hug them each night as I lay down to sleep.

Out of Control

It's interesting to consider how much control we really have of our lives. Most people like to think they are the masters of their own destinies, yet we do not know for sure if we will even wake up each morning. It's a safe assumption, particularly if we are in good health and slumbering in a secure place, but you never know.

You never know if the next time you drive to work may be your last. You might be a careful driver but if a less circumspect operator, or worse still a reckless or drunk one, crosses your path, what can you do? I don't mean to be fatalistic and gloomy but the fact remains that our lives are fragile. We are fragile. Already broken, truth be told, and unable to heal completely, we are subject to the vagaries and mysteries of life: at the mercy of other people's choices.

We choose many things in life while many others are chosen for us. Some of our choices are good, and some are not. Some seem right when we make them only to be later proved unwise. The future is the undiscovered country. We make our plans, and as the saying goes...God laughs. Whether you believe in a sovereign God as I do, or in fate or whatever you call it, only a fool thinks he is the master of his own destiny. Control is an illusion. Embrace the uncertainty and put your trust in someone who knows everything and is actually in total control.

Are you the master of your destiny?

The Refuge of Routine

I finally made it back out on to the road for a run this morning after many weeks of recovery and physiotherapy to treat a torn hip flexor muscle. I have missed my morning runs but in their absence I found a new thing to do. Getting up at the same time has provided the opportunity to write this blog (I'm running late now trying to do it.) To write to publishers to inform them that my manuscript has been accepted, to reach out to people on Goodreads, and to check emails. If I can't do one thing then I must find some other habit to fill that void.

Routine furnishes me with an anchor for my otherwise tumultuous life. I mean, it's all over the shop these days, but even when, back in the day, it was serene and ordered, I still loved routine. Routine is a refuge from chaos, and at the very least it helps maintain the illusion that I am in control.

F is for Freedom

F is for Freedom

“The lights were out in the Christmas Island detention centre. Extinguished as they were each night at 9:30. In much the same way as the hopes of the detainees for freedom were quashed with each sunset. This was her eight day of boredom and relentless depression.

She rolled on her side and stared across the room, visualizing all the other rooms filled with restless bodies. They did nothing to exhaust themselves during the day for there was nothing to do. Often they slept from tedium which made it harder to sleep at night. Thuza imagined muffled conversations of discontent emanating from the shadows as she prayed for deliverance: death or freedom.”  From chapter 8, Ashmore Grief

Books have been written about freedom, movies made and songs sung. The concept of freedom, the experience of it, the lack of it, the search for it and the fight for it have filled the hearts and imaginations of people throughout the ages. Freedom and its sibling control are issues which preoccupy mankind, fuelling philosophical debates, and tantalizing those without it.

Certain freedoms are taken for granted by particular people in specific situations. In democratic nations we have freedom of speech, freedom of religion and freedom of association but these are not without conditions. With rights come responsibilities, and therefore it could easily be argued that there is no such thing as true freedom. There is no scope to debate the point here.

In Asmore Grief, Thuza prayed for freedom. She wanted to get out of the Immigration Detention Centre. However, escaping her incarceration would only free her from a physical prison. The trauma she suffered in there, and on her journey to Australia which she hoped was a journey to freedom, will itself become a jail. Our memories can construct liberty depriving walls around us.

We are only truly free when we realize and accept the fact that we are not as free as we think we are. I’d love to hear your thoughts on freedom? Illusory or real?

Photograph source:

http://consciouslifenews.com/covert-op-destroy-word-freedom/