My expert gardener friend will be visiting soon and I look at my own gardens and think: Darn! Where did all those weeds come from? I could get out there and frantically try to dig them out, but I’m in more of an August mind to just let them go. Who says they’re weeds, as another friend recently said to me. They have every right to live, too. If I dig them all out, she wisely pointed out, I’ll destroy the wildflowers that are also there. So, they stay. Uncontrolled. Mathew Fox, not the actor but the theologian, once said, “The opposite of control is celebration.” I decide to celebrate the weeds.
Thinking of weed-control leads me to another conversation I had recently—this time with my son. We were discussing what “control” means and why it’s popped into his consciousness at this time. Is it about “being controlled,” “controlling others,” or wanting to feel some “control” while being surrounded by chaos. I certainly don’t have any answers but I’ve collected some thoughts over the years. We’re living in a techno-controlled world—and we wonder who’s in control of all that information. Governments? The military? A hidden group of rich people with immense power? I read recently that the British learned all about fingerprinting from the Bengalis and then used it to control them—along with others. It’s a reality that GPS radio devices are implanted, not just in animals for ID purposes, but also in people. Lest we veer, here, into conspiracy-theory-land, suffice it to say I have it on “good authority.”
So who’s in control? And do we choose to live, as Riane Eisler has put it, in a dominator culture with rigid hierarchies and punishments, or a partnership culture where all can flourish? Do we seek power “over” or power “with”?
In the book I’m reading right now by Carolyn Myss called Entering the Castle: An Inner Path to God and Your Soul, tied to St. Teresa of Avila’s The Inner Castle, she talks about chaos and control and how it’s our “soul work” to recognize both. Disruptive behavior creates chaos by which people try to control others or try to control the world. She says, “Ultimately, every act of divine chaos is an attempt to affirm that there is actually a plan for us on Earth.” I’m not saying that earthquakes or hurricanes—or death—are “divine interventions” but I do believe that we live in a divine paradox. It may feel out of control, yet is held for us in such a way that weeds and flowers can grow up together—and both be beautiful. And valued.








Recent Comments