Control Freakiness, Part II
I love to write about control freakiness. I think more of us get into trouble, large and small, by trying to control things.
Yesterday I observed a small example that made me laugh.
My husband and I were lunching in our favorite, small restaurant, where we know the staff by name and they know us by name. We were celebrating the third anniversary of his catastrophic accident. (When you're as blessed as we are, baby, you celebrate!)
We sat on the deck and enjoyed the sunshine, the lemonade, and the people watching. (Because we live in a tourist town, the people watching is fantastic!) The restaurant and deck were extremely crowded, and the staff was as busy as an ant farm.
A self-important young man strode quickly onto the deck. He had an expensive haircut, expensive sunglasses, a phone embedded in his ear, and logo-laden sports clothes and shoes.
The hostess seated him and his friend. Since I am a regular, as I said, I knew that she was about to tell him that his server's name was Ann, and would be with him in a minute.
However, the young man barked at the hostess, "I wanna medium burger on a toasted bun with blue cheese melted on the top - melted!"
The hostess, who was extremely busy, said, "Uh...okay," and tried to hustle his order back to the kitchen, while still doing her real job - seating the many impatient people who stood waiting at the front of the house.
The burger arrived and it was not to the young man's satisfaction - not toasted, not melted. He sent back his food and sat fuming with nothing to eat while his quiet friend dug into his lunch - alone.
I meditated on the scene. There they were, two healthy young men, sitting before the breathtaking Teton Mountains on a crystal-clear day. One was tense and snarly, and one was having his peaceful lunch ruined by his tense and snarly friend.
Had the young man trusted enough to give himself over to the system for a minute or two, he would have had his lunch just the way he wanted it. And he would have been a better lunch companion to his friend.
Not controlling things doesn't always involve the larger things in life.
Sometimes it's about taking a breath, enjoying the view, and trusting that lunch is going to "happen" without your micromanagement.