#010: Not Qualified to Run the Universe
On letting go of the illusion of control through trust.
Just over five years ago I was smacked upside the head with some life-changing advice. It arrived as I was carrying a ton of weight mentally and spiritually. As I began describing a series of problems I was facing to an older, wiser mentor, he saw the deeper root cause; I was being guided by a very common narrative of trying to control all outcomes.
That narrative arc was showing up in every area of my life. It seems silly now as I write this. But for those going through it, it’s highly deceptive, especially for a tech worker like me. I spend all day rotating through a series of controllable programs, so it’s no wonder why a need for predictability rubs off on the rest of my life.
Yet the sweetest aromas in life are random. And sadly, randomness torments the minds of those seeking control over outcomes.
An example from my own life happened just this week. I had an event I was hosting at my house planned for a month. And over the past month I’ve been quietly checking in with guests, planning food, and communicating those plans. Everything was all lined up. Weather was amazing all week, literally perfect March weather for Colorado. 60’s and sunny with a light breeze. Then boom, the weather report showed snow preparing to pound the area exactly at the time of the event. I canceled the event I had lost sleep over. This is just one of many examples I go through in life where randomness wins.
You might be saying, “Dude, snow in Colorado isn’t random. You should have had a plan B.” That’s the point, Plan B is how it starts. That’s what triggers the spiral into controlling more and more potential outcomes.
I know it’s not just me. Recently I was speaking with a friend who is a software engineer. He seemed stressed out, so I pried a bit, and he admitted, “Dane, I didn’t fall asleep until 5:30AM last night. I have so much going on in my head.”
The student became the teacher, and like my mentor told me once I relayed the same advice I once received to my friend’s bloodshot eyes, “Dude, you gotta stop trying to control all outcomes. I’ve been there.” I know that’s hypocritical, but I’ll take my small wins where I can get them.
His eyes lit up a bit, sensing that I truly did understand the struggle. It plays like a strategy game in our heads with a series of If/Then exercises, gaming out all kinds of scenarios. It’s a useful skill in many respects, and sure we become good at chess, but life isn’t a chessboard with a set of clear boundaries and rules.
Our modern economy is built around the need for control. From advanced tech like AI giving us more information and answers to control events; to the basic stuff like your car controlling the ability to arrive somewhere safely and on time. Nearly every object around me serves my need for control in some way.
It makes sense. Control is safer. I avoid uncertainty in order to stay safe. That’s just human nature. This is why money is worshipped the way it is in our society, because money buys us a sense of control. But the irony is that the most adventurous, loving, amazing moments in my life have happened outside of my ability to control outcomes.
Trying to control outcomes keeps me from true experiences that force growth. This is like the wisdom of the trendy saying, ‘do hard things’; or another catchy phrase, ‘the obstacle is the way’; or, as another mentor of mine used to tell me, ‘the only way out is through.’
The older I get, the more I appreciate this. Just recently, I was at work, and heard a noise outside and turned around to see that it began hailing. I had zero expectation of seeing hail. Yet it enchanted me. I paused my work to stand at the window, peering outside at the thousands of little pieces of ice slamming to the ground, making a naturally calming melody. None of it was controllable or planned.
I returned to my tasks better off for having those five random minutes of observation. It changed the course of my day and helped me think ‘outside the box’ when I went back to the grind. When I woke up the next morning, the nearby mountains were covered in a layer of white from base to top, while the trees glistened under a misty aura as the sun began warming the overnight freeze.
As I sat at my desk, I looked at a bare tree branch outside and saw a melting piece of ice being lit up by the morning rays. It was in a transformative phase of ice melting into water, so when the sunlight hit it, it flickered like it was sending me morse code, telling me to open my eyes to the randomness around me instead of fixating on what is, or more importantly what is not, in my control.
What does all this mean practically?
This means taking less unnecessary ‘control detours’ investigating things that have nothing to do with me. This can show up as turning off the news, unfollowing people that cause me anxiety on social media, or giving up on toxic relationships. This takes courage to find the solitude to contemplate what you really want, and how your actions and the people around you contradict those wants.
It also means living by one of my favorite Proverbs:
“The heart of man plans his way,
but the Lord establishes his steps.”
— Proverbs 16:9 (ESV)
Not qualified for the job of controlling the universe.
I’m not sure why I ever tried, but try I did. I think it had to do with trust. There’s a book called Childhood and Society by Erik Erikson. His research establishes that the first task of human life is learning trust. Our first question in life is basically, “Is the world safe and reliable?”
I’m guessing that if you’re still reading, this idea of trust resonates with you. And it’s probably because that first task of life was somewhat complicated. In other words, the answer to that first question of life was a hard no. There are a number of reasons why that can happen; dysfunction, abandonment, chaos, neglect, and so forth.
Whatever the reason is, awareness that you are trying to control all outcomes is step one. Step two is realizing that when you attempt the impossible task of trying to control the universe, it’s based on an inability to trust. The final step is to go back and begin pouring a foundation with a material more trustworthy than family of origin, money, status, or performance.
For me, that material is my trust in God, because I believe it’s eternal and unshakeable. If I think that I don’t have any faith, I quickly realize that I have to stand on something. Timothy Keller often talked about how even if I say, “I have faith in nothing.” That’s faith in something!
Thinking through what we have faith in will reveal what we trust, and that will reveal why we’re trying to control all outcomes.