On Things We Can Control

I was driving a car today. A whole metallic body was moving according to my personal desire. I pressed on the pedals carefully to speed up and down. I turned the steering wheel left and right to adjust the car, the metallic body that greatly outweighs me. I made the decision on when to stop. You might wonder why I am so hyped up about driving a car. Maybe because it was my second time ever to drive one. But also because, in a world that often feels chaotic and beyond our influence, being able to exert such tangible control over even the smallest things can be a grounding and restorative experience.

This idea of finding agency in the face of broader uncontrollable forces is something I've been reflecting on a lot lately. While it is easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the world’s injustices, there are small acts that can bring us back to ourselves. I've found that focusing on the little things we can control—such as the rhythmic movements of dancing, the precise chopping of vegetables in the kitchen, or the simple act of going for a jog can be powerful antidotes to that sense of powerlessness.

Dancing, for a woman, is a form of bodily control for human beings who have been confined within societal constraints and orders. A woman might not be able to decide on her major life decisions; there are people already doing that for her. However, these people cannot move a hip on her behalf. For a woman, obsessing over her kitchen, creating perfect meals, maintaining a house that smells nice all the time, and moving her body in harmony to the rhythm of music are all means of guarding what is left of her autonomy in a society that confines it and considers it a threat.

I follow the news every day, and I see genocide. I see political prisons, and I see a whole world collapsing. It is in those moments that I look at what I can control. Often, it feels like nothing. I pursue my normal lifestyle. I get educated. I get consumed by mundane routines mixed with meaningless drama every now and then.

By the end of the day, I go back to my room, exhausted and drained. I walk slowly to the kitchen, grab an onion, mushrooms, and peppers of different colors. I start cutting them into pieces. I cook not because I am hungry, but because at the end of the day, I like to think that there are things I can still control. These things might be the size of my onion pieces and the amount of salt in the food, but they help me guard the remains of my sanity in a world where madness is a growing trend.

I share these thoughts with the GU-Q community, knowing that many of us have been impacted by the surge of flames. We are held back by our helplessness and the lack of control we experience. This is not to say we can do nothing to challenge it or contribute to small, incremental changes. Rather, it is to say that, to stay focused and attentive—to not drown in despair and disbelief. One should cling to these tiny details over which we can impose full control.

Plant some mint. Cook an easy, fulfilling meal. Go jogging every other day. Learn to drive. Appreciate the impact these little details have on boosting your mental health. Continuing to fight requires a deep, long breath. Do whatever helps you breathe better.

Accelerate when the road ahead feels open. Take a U-turn if you've missed your path. And most importantly, press the brakes when your body tells you to pause.