Out of control

I was in a meeting, a meeting that I had called, and when I walked in right on time, someone else had started the session and was handing out materials that were not what the group had previously committed to using. I felt a twitter in my gut, an agitation really. Who did she think she was?

Under the auspices of needing more space for my computer, I moved from the circle to a nearby desk. Mostly, I was trying to get me out of the direct assault of the energy I was receiving and sending out so close to my competition.

And, then, seeing that she had no idea what she was doing, I gave it over. Changed who I thought I was supposed to be. And then, even more interesting to me, I saw myself in this other person. Ten year ago, my boss told me that no one else speaks in meetings because I am always leading and generating the ideas so quickly. By trying to help, I was shutting the process down.

So, today, in that room, I let her be who she needed to be. I gave her all of the power she needed to feel, and I watched myself relinquished my desire to be in control.

Then I noticed how something loosened. How something widened. How it felt to be the river rolling, not the source. How it felt to be the window looking out, not the room that holds the window.

I am too old to be learning these lessons, I know. I am too old to still be figuring this out. I remember thinking, when I was eighteen, that I could see 36. I would be married, I would have a couple kids. My man and me would live in a small charming town. I would drive a Volvo station wagon and volunteer at the local school. I just knew that I would know it all. I distinctly remember thinking that I had no idea how I would get from 18 to 36, but that I would make it. To this me I saw so clearly.

But, here I sit, 12 years past 36. Writing this in a coffee shop. No man. No woman. No children. No Volvo station wagon. No time spent volunteering. Just me, still trying to understand a tad bit more than I did the day before. Giving more and more away, in an effort to finally meet the skeletal truth of me.