That November day back in 1963 began just like any other day. I was sitting at my desk in the back of Mr. Martin’s seventh grade Spanish class. It was still a time of innocence then—especially for someone like me growing up in a small town in a conservative family. My parents would dress up every Friday night for their square dance class—Mom in her full skirt and Dad…I don’t remember what he wore. But they both went out the door happy. They played bridge one night a week, too, and we had potlucks with other families in the neighborhood—the Ottmans, the Dannenhowers, Don and Marilou and the twins.
But that November day was different. The class was bent over our desks working intently on an assignment when we were interrupted by an announcement. The news came over the intercom high up on the classroom wall—President Kennedy had been shot. Walter Cronkite’s voice cracked as he announced that the president was dead. We sat at our desks in stunned silence. Mr. Martin put his head down on his desk at the front of the classroom. It was a pivotal moment for many of us coming of age at that time. Things can go terribly wrong with no warning. Do we really have control over our lives? Can anything keep us safe?
Working at hospice and facilitating a group for parents who had lost an infant was a powerfully transforming experience for all of us. During one of the sessions one of the parents shared a profound realization he had since losing his baby daughter: “Ultimately, we have no control over what happens.” It was obvious he was shaken to the core. It was a powerful epiphany for the whole group. None of the parents had been able to save their infants no matter how hard they had tried. There was no making sense of why these particular people from diverse backgrounds, different walks of life, had all been touched by this loss. Those who knew them couldn’t comfort themselves by finding a reason that would explain why they had experienced this tragedy. If they could find a reason, maybe they could avoid this and other tragedies in their own lives. These babies hadn’t died because the parents were bad people who needed to be punished—nothing could be further from the truth. There was no apparent reason. And therefore, we were all at risk for things like this happening in our own lives.
Coming to terms with the reality that our little egos are not in control was a secondary loss these grieving parents faced. But at some point, we must all step out of our naïve belief that we are running our lives. After all, did we have control over being born? Are we in charge of all the complex biological processes that keep the body alive? Brain research is showing that we have very little, if any, conscious control over our lives.
The realization of no control is a wake-up call—a key aspect of the spiritual path. It is the beginning of surrender to something greater than our own ego-self. It is the beginning of truly living rather than merely existing. The parents in the group each traveled their own path of adapting to their new reality, finding their own way through the uncharted territory of their grief. And in the process of healing from their losses, life invited them to grow and evolve toward greater wholeness.
For me, that November day when President Kennedy was shot began a search, however unconscious, for some way to be safe in the world. I didn’t know then that safety is found in releasing our belief that we are in control, and surrendering to something greater than our own ego. As a spiritual mentor once put it, “The only safe place is the Now.” Being present for ‘what is’ is living in a surrendered state, in harmony with Nature. Complete vulnerability is, paradoxically, our only safety.
Consider This: Give up your imaginary sense of control, release your inner defenses and allow Nature to take over your life. She accomplishes everything effortlessly and in perfect order.
