Beyond Our Control

 Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it. A humorous quote, attributed to various sources over the years, and one that highlights the fact that, despite all that we have accomplished, there still remain things we cannot control. We do not control the weather; we merely endure it and respond to it.

How much control do we really have, even over our own lives? Things may happen the way we intended, but there are always a multitude of outside elements that interfere with our plans, even at the best of times. How often is what we do, what we can do, determined by what other people are doing?

I'm in the process of applying for a job. I've submitted my resume and went in for an interview last week. I was told that someone would reach out to me for my list of references (which I had thought to include during the application but did not). It has been a few days now and I have yet to be contacted (though two of those days were a weekend, so some slack may be granted). I am ready on my end for this exchange of information, but until the other party reaches out to me, I am stuck waiting.

We may try to guide events to happen in a certain way, but more often than not there are other people who are also guiding events, counter to our own interests. There is an experiment of sorts in physics, one that illustrates the effects of multiple forces acting on a singular object. Take three pieces of string and tie weights of varying masses to one end of each string. Tie the opposite ends to a metal ring and let the ring sit on top of a circular table, with the weights hanging off the edge. If you arrange the strings correctly, the forces balance each other out, and the ring remains exactly at the center of the table.

I had actually tried writing much of this yesterday, but lost everything due to a poor internet connection, likely due to the snowstorm I cited in the previous post. Yet again, things outside our control influence our (attempted) actions. Admittedly, I did consider trying to retype everything but decided against it. It would have felt rushed, and my frustration likely would have soured the tone of the work.

Beware the Ides of March, indeed.