Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Losing The Remote

The remote in our apartment is often missing. As I am not the primary TV watcher there (staring at an editing screen all day can do that to a person), the remote's disappearance doesn't really phase me. The control of the TV doesn't matter so much to me, so the location of the remote doesn't matter so much either.
 

It is not the same with the other parts of my life. I like to have control. I like to know what I am doing and where I am going. I like to know what's for dinner and what I have to do to make dinner happen. Sometimes, however, my control, much like the TV's, goes missing. Suddenly, the channels and the programs and the volume of my life are not my choice. Suddenly, I find myself watching the show in front of me, wondering how exactly I ended up in this place with this point of view. And I can't change the channel, because I've lost the remote control.
 

And then I find the "remote." And I suddenly have the power to choose, both what I'm watching and the volume of the content. Suddenly, I have the power to stay or to walk away, to change the channel, or to settle in right where I am. And somehow, having the life remote control in my hand makes all the difference in the world. It may not mean that the programs to choose from are any different, but I can choose which to stop on, and I can choose when to turn the whole thing off. It may not allow me to make the picture any clearer, but it allows me to see the picture on my terms before I decide what to do with it.
 

I have no immediate plans to dig in the couch cushions to find our TV remote. As for my personal remote control, I'm going to work harder to keep hold of it. Because sometimes, having the control, remote or otherwise, is the most important thing.

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