Yes, I am a hypocrite sometimes. And that’s a kick in the groin for me, because I despise hypocrisy, as anyone who knows me or reads my stuff is already aware.

The whole do as I say, not as I do thing. Makes me wanna take a swing.

But my own hypocrisy? Simple: if I’m not careful, I easily slip into the mistaken notion that I’m in charge of my life, that I’m controlling the outcome. Not unlike the very government(s) I rail against, continually criticize. Or all those piss-poor managers I’ve had to deal with at pretty much every job I’ve ever held: they think they’re supposed to be in charge, rather than merely facilitatory. So while attempting to control everything and everyone, they proceed to only get in the way, cause problems, slow everything down, fuck everything up…

So I must constantly wage these internal revolutions, put myself back in my place so my life can continue on its predestined course—you know, the one I keep derailing by sticking my fat nose into everything and trying to be “in charge.”

But letting go takes constant effort. Allowing it all to unfold on its own is difficult.

But I try. It’s a perpetual battle. But when I succeed (and today, after a few years of practice, I’d put myself as succeeding perhaps half the time, maybe less), things can be wondrous. And seeing that, experiencing that, even briefly—I then cannot help but wonder why the hell I keep insisting on seizing control and getting in my own way. But I do. Perpetually.

One key is constant awareness; my job is to facilitate, not to control. Merely to build a stable platform, provide the essential tools and ingredients, keep everything maintained, in optimal readiness, then…wait. Watch for clues. Observe the signs.

If I’m not living in constant awareness, not being present in the moment, not intentionally living but living on autopilot—I risk missing the clues, the signs…the doors that opened for me as I walked by with my head up my own ass.

But if I’m living in awareness, paying attention, waiting and watching—eventually, a green light will begin glowing over one of the many doors before me, and then I’ll know in which direction I’m to take the next step. And it’s much less stressful technique than trying to force things all the time.

And sometimes, a door will just open by itself, and I’ll be thrust through it, with no real choice of my own. And whether it’s good for me because it’s a good thing, or good for me because it’s a bad thing, something from which I can learn—or more likely, something I need to learn, before I can move forward—either way, it’s good for me in the long run. The good and the bad; they’re all necessary components of the overall journey.

But when I overstep my bounds, dismiss my proper roll and try to take charge, try to control things—I end up forcing my way through one of the wrong doors, and as a result proceed in the wrong direction—while my life stalls behind me, patiently waiting for me realize my error, return, regroup, and get back on the right track.

Once again I must humbly demote myself, allow the Universe to retake the reigns, and…wait. Watch for clues. Observe the signs.

The wrong door? That’s simple too: usually the closest one, the one that’s easiest to open. That’s always a good clue; the right door is seldom that close, that easy.

The right door? Well, I can pretty much guarantee that the odds of my choosing the right door myself are twofold: slim and none. There are all these doors, infinite in number, standing before me as far as the eye can see, and I’m supposed to just arbitrarily pick the right one? Throw a dart? Roll The Bones? Or worse—convince myself that I’m in charge, I’m in control of everything, then try to select the right door based on nothing but my own infinitesimal knowledge of the Universe? Right.

So yes, I am a hypocrite sometimes: I rail against governments which try to control me, rather than protect me; criticize bosses who try to control me, rather than facilitate my work; reject teachers who try to control me, rather than educate me; bemoan my parents, who tried to control me, rather than support and nurture me. Then, I turn right around and do the same damn thing to myself: try to control every aspect of my life, rather than simply allowing it to unfold as it naturally would, as it is intended—and perhaps even predestined.

So today, I step back, humble myself, and return the reigns of my life to their rightful master.

Hypocrisy, be gone!