The Truth About Control and Acceptance

What's mine, what's yours, and how can you even tell?

Mar 18, 2025

I bought a Christmas cactus for my coffee table a while back.

I really wanted it to grow more out than up. I fully expected it would begin spilling elegantly over its pot by now, throwing little cascades of green against the otherwise neutral (dare I say, plain) background.

It continues, however, to grow up and not out.

Every day, I stare at it, subconsciously willing it to spill over.

Grow out - grow out.

This thought drifts like a cloud into my awareness each time I pass the cactus—which is a lot because this is the only area in our NYC apartment where we can simply “be” aside from the bedrooms. It’s taking up valuable brain space—background noise, but still.

I’ve thought about pushing the stems to the side in an effort to train it. Bend it to my will. But I fear this will cause it to break.

The Sara of a different era would have done that. She would attempt to bend it because that was her MO.

I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to control things that were out of my control.

People, events, outcomes, the way plants grow.

A lot of us do this—we try to bend things to our will so they meet our expectations. We try to control our partners, coworkers, children, and situations we have nothing to do with.

Do you? Yeah, me too.

But here’s what I know:

I cannot control the plant; however, I can foster an environment that helps it. I can water it, feed it, adjust the light it receives, and prune it. But even in doing that, it’s up to the plant whether it grows and how it grows.

It’s my responsibility to care for the plant, but I cannot grow for the plant.

I am not in charge of its growth - only fostering the environment for that growth to occur. I need to understand what is mine and what is the plant’s.

I can also control my expectations of the plant, how I see it, and what I tell myself about it.

We set expectations and how we choose to focus based on what we think is ‘right.’ The problem with this is that our idea of right is just that - our idea. It’s what’s right for us, not necessarily right for another person.

I’m guessing the plant couldn’t care less how it’s growing, it’s only happy that it is. My job is to accept that the plant will grow as it intends to grow.

It’s not the plant that needs to be more flexible; it is me.

The next time you experience dissatisfaction with someone or something, or you’ve got a thing ruminating around in your head, stop for a minute and ask yourself: