What Last Week Taught Me About Control
My dad had a stroke last week.
He's stable, and the early signs are hopeful. But since it happened, I keep imagining that I somehow knew and was able to prevent it from happening. That I have a feeling that wakes me up at 3 a.m., and I call 911 in time.
I know the feeling isn't real, but I keep thinking about it anyway.
Rationally, I understand that the imagined premonition isn't about my dad at all. This is about me. It's my mind inventing a version of that night where I had control, because that's easier for my brain to process than the truth: that I didn't.
That same helplessness shows up at work, and I see it with the leaders I coach.
A chief security officer whose boss gives him nothing - no feedback, no direction - while the CEO and the board tell him he's doing an excellent job. To him, the silence is disorienting, and his mind rushes to fill it. He builds a theory that maybe he's being managed out or his role is being intentionally minimized. He replays every interaction looking for signs that confirm his suspicions.
A division president under a new CEO whose style is grinding him and his team down. He replays their conversations over and over in his mind - imagining that his boss finally “wakes up” and sees the damage he’s doing.
While these are different situations, it’s the same reflex. When something that matters is outside our control, it’s hard to accept - so we ruminate on it. And rumination is a brilliant disguise for our refusal to let go of what we can’t control.
Viktor Frankl said, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”
I’m not talking about “staying positive.” It’s focusing on how we choose to respond to a situation - which no one can take from you.
For the chief security officer, that means distinguishing real organizational problems from the ones he’s amplifying - and choosing where to spend his energy. He compared it to road rage: he gets triggered, but doesn’t have to get upset. For the division president, it means pouring himself into his team instead of fighting a CEO he can’t control. For me, it means calling my dad every day, and letting that be enough for now, even though I’m not there and so wish I could be.
I'm not writing this because I have it figured out. I'm writing it from the middle of it and doing my best to stay grounded while the ground keeps moving.