The Myth of Control

I lived in Southern California in the early 80’s. In my spare time, I visited Laguna and Huntington, to body surf and frolic. Once time, my back turned to the ocean (never a good idea), I was slammed by a wave. Cartwheeling underwater, no idea which way was up, short of breath, I finally found the surface. Gasping, I straggled from the sea to clear my head and the sand from my shorts. The simple truth: you vs. Mother Naure is a mismatch. Despite the plots you’ve seen from Disney and Pixar, you cannot outmuscle or reason with her.

I loved Jungle Book, the first movie I saw on the big screen. I still have some of the songs on my playlist. Bagheera the sleek panther, yeah, he’s not gonna lead you to safety. You will not defeat a Bengal Tiger by tying a torch to it’s tail. Don’t even get me started on orangutans and pythons. And Baloo the Bear is your buddy only in the movies.

In real life, bears are ferocious, fast, and killers when confronted. Or whenever they feel like it. Consider this story from 2014. A group of five college students hiking through the woods in New Jersey spied a black bear. “Cool,” they thought. Photo op. They stopped to snap pictures. The non-Disney carnivore was not amused.

Recently, Melanie and I took granddaughter Ruby to see Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile. Clever tale, great songs, fantastic visuals. But if one of those reptiles busts into your house, or even your backyard, it’s not an invitation to dance to Stevie Wonder. I’ve seen gators in the Everglades and orcas breaching near my tour boat in Alaska. I’ve driven in blizzards with almost zero visibility and survived sub-zero temps lasting several days. Overwhelmingly I feel small, vulnerable, and very, very mortal.

One of favorite Shakespeare scenes is the dialogue between Caesar and his wife Calpurnia as she tries to dissuade him from going to the Senate. She’s had dreams, seen omens, and there have been whispers of an assassination plot. Too dangerous, she warns. To justify his desire to go (where he hopes to be crowned king) Caesar blusters,

Danger knows full well

That Caesar is more dangerous than he.

We are two lions littered in one day,

And I the elder and more terrible.

Laying aside the ridiculous and non-sensical claim that he is more dangerous than Danger, and that Danger knows this, and his insistence in referring to himself in third person, the words are oozing with pride. Calpurnia, unimpressed with Caesar’s flashy similes, replies,

Alas, my lord, Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

Of course, Caesar goes to the Senate. Of course he dies.

Last week, we had a vicious hailstorm here in Texas. Never seen anything like it. Hunks of ice dropping from the sky like mortar rounds. The lawn around my house was peppered with divots, leaves and branches scattered everywhere. We need a new roof and some screens need replacing. My truck was on the street-lots of dimples on the hood, a cracked windshield, and a broken window. Watching the hail pummel everything in sight, I was reminded of being waylaid by an unseen wave.

I’m not as strong as I think I am. My days are numbered, and my body is aging. I have far less control in almost every arena than I want to admit. Humility is not only a virtue, it’s vital to growing up.