I Took the Steering Wheel This Morning | PeonyMagazine

• Posted by Peony Magazine Feb 3 Filed in Arts & Culture #mind  #PeonyMagazine  #inner growth  #mind and spirit  #Steering wheel  43 views
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  The ceiling hums faintly with the sound of a world already awake. Light leaks through the curtains, sharp and uninvited, landing across the mess on my desk, half-folded laundry, a cold mug from last night, and a notebook with too many crossed-out plans. My body stirs before my mind fully operates. The air feels heavy, like it’s pressing me to choose between rising and staying still. Somewhere under the weight of it all, I move, because lying still makes the noise in my head louder.

  I poured a cup of tea, not even thinking about steeping it properly, and took the first sip like it might somehow stabilize me, it didn’t. My hands were shaking, not from caffeine but from knowing I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve been coasting, pretending like I have control, but control is a joke, isn’t it? The only thing I’ve ever controlled is how well I hide that I don’t.

  I looked out the window at the street I’ve walked a thousand times and felt like a stranger. People are rushing by, moving like they know where they’re going. And me? I’m gripping the steering wheel of a car I can’t drive, but I took it anyway. It’s morning, and something about the heat of tea and the deep breath made me pretend I’m steering. Even if I’m just sitting in neutral.

  I remember something I once read in Shunryu Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind:

  “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

  I just thought that maybe that’s what this is, this awkward morning steering. Maybe I’ve been so desperate to feel like an expert at living that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to simply be new at it. And control isn’t about knowing the road, but about noticing it, each turn, each pause, each breath that says, “you’re still here.”

  The quiet returns, pressing in, reminding me of everything I’ve avoided like bills, obligations, the ever-looming question of what my life is even supposed to be. And I keep thinking: if I can’t answer that now, when will I? The thought makes me dizzy, makes me want to crawl back under the blanket and pretend tomorrow will fix it. I glance at my phone and don’t pick it up. I hate myself for that. Because I know I’m lying to myself if I say I’m taking control, but the control is just ignoring notifications. It doesn’t make me any better or less scared.

  So I take another sip, longer this time. I let it burn down my throat like it’s supposed to, because it’s the only thing I can taste that isn’t judgment or expectation. And for a second, I imagine steering. Not the life I think I should have, not the Instagram-perfect version of me, not the one who seems to have figured everything out. 

  I ask myself: if you were in my shoes, what would you do? Would you take the wheel or leave it in the passenger seat, letting life drift you around like debris in a river? And then I realize: maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe what matters is that for this one morning, I decided to sit in the driver’s seat, however shakily.

  There’s no clarity yet, and no miraculous revelation. The world outside is still moving too fast, and inside, I’m still unraveling. But the cup of tea is warm. My hands are slightly steadier. And the breath, ugh, the breath, is mine, even if the rest of me feels borrowed, lost somewhere between yesterday and who knows when.

  More: https://peonymagazine.com/mind-spirit/the-morning-i-took-control/