Letting Go: An Antidote to the Rearview Mirror and Crystal Ball Habits of the Mind

In the year before my father died, Sufjan Stevn’s catchy song “Chicago” (featured in the 2006 film Little Miss Sunshine) was on repeat in my music player. This song spoke to me because it paid homage to my Midwest roots, and I absolutely loved the movie. Sharing our favorite movies, music, and art with loved ones is one of the perks of being social animals, and as such, I wanted to share Sufjan’s music with my nearest and my dearest, including my dad and brother. The memory itself was pretty neutral. It was likely encoded in my mind because it occurred during the emotional year before my dad’s death, and it was one of the last ones where I remember him being functional and healthy. We were in my car in Fry’s computer store parking lot when I enthusiastically played Sufan’s “Chicago.” After listening, they both responded with sideways looks, conveying a less-than-enthusiastic take on the song. Given that neither one was that much into Indie pop, I wasn’t surprised by their difference of opinion. To each his/her/their own. I will always be open to sharing my musical tastes with my nearest and dearest, hoping they will hear what I hear and be impacted by the song’s lyrical messages.

On this January 2025 Saturday afternoon, while I’m sans kids, taking down Christmas decorations, and listening to my curated “Self-Emancipation Mix,” Sufjan’s song “Should have known better…” came on the player. The song got me thinking about our mind’s tendency to get stuck in feelings of regret, remorse, guilt, and hindsight bias when life throws us curve balls. It also got me thinking about the fortune-telling habits of the mind that try to keep us safe by offering predictions about the future in order to minimize harm and bad outcomes.

For much of my life, I’ve been a planner, an over-achiever, a worst-case-scenario strategist. These behavioral tendencies have been assets in my life and likely contributed to accomplishing the personal and professional goals I set for myself. In graduate school, I became well-versed in various ESTs for anxiety, depression, and trauma-based conditions. I learned how anxiety-driven behaviors of over-control, perfectionism, and mistake-avoidance were understandable (but often maladaptive) attempts to gain a felt sense of control over the messy feelings and harsh realities that are part of the human experience: ambivalence, uncertainty, shame, fear of negative judgment, the unexplainable, the illogical, the unknown. I learned exposure-based protocols to help clients reduce their inflexible, over-learned behaviors, sit with underlying uncomfortable emotional states, and build a sense of mastery and confidence. In addition to helping clients, I applied many of the concepts to my own personal journey with anxiety.

As with many things with age, the intellectual understanding of these principles and skills in my 20s and 30s has shifted into more embodied knowing in my 40s. My own unworkable patterns of control, masquerading as conscientiousness, responsibility, agreeability, and put-togetherness, ultimately became too exhausting to uphold. Now that I’m more life-experienced, with more than a few notches on my life warrior belt, I can better guide my clients (and myself) in discerning when to lean into action-oriented tendencies and when to let go and accept what cannot be controlled. I can now see how my efforts to prepare for life’s “worst-case scenarios” didn’t actually prevent challenging life experiences from happening. Control strategies have been adaptive in specific contexts and have helped me achieve some of my life goals. But when they were on autopilot and employed inflexibly, they generated background stress and strain on my mind, body, and soul and represented subtle forms of self-neglect and self-harm.

The hard truths (as I choose to believe them): Compared to the world of physical, inanimate objects, there is very little we can directly and 100% control about human emotion, cognition, relationships, and the unfolding of our life trajectory.

  • We cannot control others’ actions (past, present, or future)
  • We cannot control others’ emotions, thoughts, communications, or where they place their attention.
  • We cannot control what people say or think about us.
  • We cannot control our past choices or actions.
  • We cannot control our automatic emotions and thoughts.
  • We cannot control the aging or disease processes in our bodies.
  • We cannot control our innate temperaments.
  • We cannot control the families and circumstances we were born into.
  • We cannot control the trajectory of our children’s lives.
  • We cannot control all of our children’s experiences, environments, and cultural influences.
  • We cannot control our children’s automatic emotions, thoughts, behaviors, or innate temperaments.
  • We cannot control how our culture, environment, and species will continue to evolve.

So then what? What can we control? Here are the tenets I ascribe to and remind myself of when I’m feeling excessively anxious or notice myself getting fused in unworkable behaviors, thoughts, and emotions.

  • We can control our actions.
  • We can control our communications.
  • We can control what we consume.
  • We can control where we place our attention.
  • We can control what inner beliefs and judgments about ourselves and others we attach to and reinforce.
  • We can control who we choose to be in relationships with.
  • We can control how we spend our time.
  • We can control what we choose to believe.
  • We can control what values we choose to commit to and re-commit to.

How does all this connect to Sufjan’s song about regret and remorse? The human mind’s tendency to ruminate and engage in analysis paralysis after a mistake made, traumatic experience, or misfortune is adaptive to the extent that those habits of the mind influence what we can control: our next moment of action. They remind us of times when we didn’t carry ourselves in alignment with our values and life purpose. They remind us of our human drive to become a better version of ourselves, given the temporal nature of our lives. They encourage us to make different choices in the future when we have let ourselves and others down in the past. Beyond these functions, fusion with excessive wallowing, rumination, and hindsight analysis adds unnecessary stress and strain to our systems.

As I have gained more clarity about what I can and cannot control in my and others’ lives, the chronic background tension in my system has softened. I’m experiencing more moments of pure joy, connection, and deep, profound love for myself and others.

Letting go of what cannot be controlled is a profound act of courage and self-respect. Giving myself permission to trust in life’s journey has yielded many gifts and silver linings. The next time you find yourself in the grips of not accepting what cannot be controlled, take a beat, open up your hands to the sky, relax the body, and just let go.

Revival by Judah & The Lion

Someone, could you help me find the wisdom to know

What I control in life and the things that I don’t?

‘Cause lately I’ve been fighting for things I need to let go

And it feels like I’m losing my grip and it’s starting to show

Someone, could you help me find the wisdom to know?

‘Cause I don’t like letting go

[Chorus]

How do I let go of what I control?

I don’t know what will be left to hold

Will I be left alone?

If I don’t let go, I’m fighting my own

Lost fight, grip tight on a heavy rope

That wasn’t mine to hold

Someone, could you help me find the wisdom to learn

When I need to get up and fight and when to relent?

‘Cause lately I’ve been really trying hard not to get hit

But if dying means a revival, then I will submit

[Chorus]

How do I let go of what I control?

I don’t know what will be left to hold

Will I be left alone?

If I don’t let go, I’m fighting my own

Lost fight, grip tight on a heavy rope

That wasn’t mine to hold

[Bridge]

Do I need to die to find revival?

Do I need to die to find revival?

[Chorus]

How do I let go of what I control?

I don’t know what will be left to hold

Will I be left alone?

If I don’t let go, I’m fighting my own

Lost fight, grip tight on a heavy rope

That wasn’t mine to hold

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The opinions and writing provided by Dr. Jakob here will not constitute – or serve as a substitute for – professional psychological treatment, therapy, or other professional advice or intervention. Consult a physician or mental health professional if you have concerns about your well-being.

Dr. Jakob receives no outside compensation for any of the resources, tips, apps or media mentioned in this blog.

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