Paul and his buddy Mia! 

The Art of Control

Yes, I am a recovering control freak. Let me tell you a little bit of my journey. The first act I call "Unconscious and Blind." I had no idea that I was a controller. I was stuck in a Matrix like Neo with no Morpheus to heal my blinded eyes.

Most around me valued blindness. All strove to win the annual award "Most Blind of All." “The Unconscious Lives of the Rich and Famous” was the most popular show on television.

If I opened my eyes widely and became conscious I was reprimanded and shamed. I would obediently shut my eyes and fall back into a deep sleep. . . at least for a while.

A day came when the sominex of unconsciousness wore off. This was the birthing of the second act "Disruption and Confusion." I encountered a life experience that I could not anesthetize. The holy disruption wrenched my hands off the control center of my life and broke both of my arms. The result--loss of control. My reaction-- horror.

The more controlling a person is the higher his potential for horror. Translated: on a scale of 1-10 a level 9 controller will experience a level 9 horror when control can no longer be sustained. The loss of control is often experienced as some kind of mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical breakdown or some combination of these.

The disruption produced a disorienting confusion about my identity. I had bought the lie that I could be the "master of my own destiny." And when I could not I lost all anchoring. I was like a ship on the sea with a broken rudder. I shivered and quaked as the last vestige of control was stripped from my hand. I was undone.

The third act I call “Fake It.” In this act I know I don’t have control of anything yet I fear rejection so I try to act like all is ok on the home-front. All the time I am dying on the inside—the internal conflict drained me of all vitality.

Each day my ability to fake was lessening. I knew it was just a matter of time until I collapsed from physical exhaustion. It was too heavy a weight to bear. I knew I would not be able to hold on.

I decided to turn my back on me, the controller. I defected on myself so that I might save myself. I realized that I was toxic to myself. I surrendered control (act four) of my life to one who has the capacity to provide benevolent control, the Christ.

So there you have the cliff note version of my story—from blinded to the Beloved.