Limits of Control

There are many things in this crazy life which I cannot control.

The reality of how little control I actually have is somewhat humbling, and perhaps at times frightening.

I cannot control my mortality.  It is what it is, I am a finite being.  I will die one day.  That reality is at times frightening.

I cannot control how vulnerable I am to pain and suffering.  It is what it is.  I am a vulnerable being.  Vulnerable to an entire host of means of pain and suffering.  That reality is at times frightening.

It seems that the only aspect of this crazy life which I can actually control is me.  And sometimes I seem to be beyond my own reach.

Yet it does seem reasonable to accept the reality that I am seemingly the artisan of my own character.  At least in terms of mood and manner.

Kindness and compassion are qualities of character which seem to always be available and attainable.  I do not always choose to exercise such, yet that is a matter of choice.  I cannot claim kindness and compassion to be beyond my control.

At least there is that much that I can control in this crazy life. 

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