I find flying very relaxing, and I always have. When there’s a patch of turbulence, I tend to stay very calm even when passengers around me are growing concerned.
I know at that moment, whatever happens to the plane is completely out of my control, and I can sit back and relax and put my trust in the pilot’s hands. Surrender.
I try to remember this as I navigate motherhood. There is so much that we cannot control. When our children are babies, we can control practically everything, or at least we have a false sense of security that we can. As they grow up, I find the ratio gets even more tilted to circumstances completely out of our control, that cushy false sense of security shattered.
My son came down with a fever in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner. My initial thought was for his concern, but then came the intrusive, controlling thoughts. What if we just infected everyone at my mom’s house for the holiday? What if our whole family gets sick now? How will you drive back to Connecticut with a nauseous kid? What about my younger son’s friend’s birthday party in a few days that he has been so excited to attend? What about my husband’s presentation on Monday? What if I get really sick, and then both of my boys are still sick, and my husband goes to work, and I can’t take care of them? And on and on…
Who is this crazy person living in my head who can come up with these thoughts in seconds? Before I became a mom, I would laugh or roll my eyes at the “what ifs.” Most of the time, the “what ifs” didn’t even occur to me.
Motherhood has changed that. The sheer responsibility of two little lives and all the unexpected things that pop up have put me on shaky ground.
This is where the surrender comes in.
Back to the Thanksgiving dinner table, the only thing I can control is what I do right now. I can help my son get set up in the guest room, rub his back, take his temperature, and ensure he’s comfortable. That’s it. All of those other “what ifs” are just that. I surrender.
And if the surrender doesn’t come so easy, I turn to reverse the “what ifs.” What if this is just a one-day little bug, and he wakes up fine tomorrow? What if everyone here is completely unaffected? What if everything works out?
And usually, reversing the “what ifs” leads to the surrender. And there is so much beauty in that. Maybe we don’t have to hold on so tight. There is a giant exhale in learning to let go.
And even outside of motherhood, in our everyday lives, what would happen if we let go of the things outside of our power, release the useless worry about what will or will not happen, and save that energy for what can be done in the now? Maybe even enjoy the ambiguity of what’s unfolding.
There is power in the surrender, a release of sorts. There is freedom in knowing so much is out of our control so we can buckle up, sit back, and enjoy the ride, turbulence and all.
