someone to watch over me

I guess I'm continuing the angel theme. I know I have angels watching over me, letting me know of their presence when times are hard, helping me give praise for glorious times. Sometimes, I think of it as my gut instinct, helping to guide me along, make the right choice about a situation. Other times, I acknowledge that a force beyond my ken has stepped in to move me toward acceptance of events beyond my control.

Yeah, and there's that word again: control. I am fully aware that the only person I have control over is myself. Again: the only person I have control over is myself. I know this to be true. The same is true for everyone else, too. And yet... I would sure LIKE to think that I have control over the thoughts and actions of others, that I can get them to do my bidding about whatever I want, whenever I want. Not that I want anyone to have such control over ME. But I'm special, don't ya know? Am I not? Shouldn't I be able to control everyone that enters into my sphere of reality? Shouldn't I????

But of course I cannot. And that would be because my sphere of reality is not the only one out there. Mine intersects with those of my family, those of my friends, those of colleagues, those of strangers. All of us, whether we know each other or not, coexisting on the same planet, but having our own unique version of the meaning of life on that blue dot in this particular galaxy. That definitely makes things a bit more complicated when the issue of control is raised.

Maybe it would be better for me to look at control as a myth, like perfect or normal. Maybe, just maybe, I should limit the concept to certain things. I mean, everyone would agree that it's best to control one's temper, to control oneself from belching or farting or scratching certain areas in public, to control one's libido so you aren't humping everything with a pulse. Hm mm, okay, I guess that's a good place to start with control, though I'm sure a little gas may escape from time to time. Which just shows to go ya: control is a myth. Let it go.

How on earth did I wander from angels to control? Just what kind of beach is this, anyway? Maybe I had too many sweet treats at the Oscar-watching party tonight. Maybe I need more sleep. Maybe I need to have someone say: honey, turn off the computer and come to bed.