Control is not about exercising dominance over our lives and their outcomes, but rather about quietly recognising our power and its limitations.

This can be challenging in a world that rewards control. Control over appearance, outcomes and others. But philosophers have shown that peace is not derived from managing the external world, but from mastering the internal one. Some things are within our control, while others are not.

Much of what occupies our minds, including our expectations for recognition, respect or success, is beyond our control. Yet we spend our lives chasing these things, believing that if our plan and execution are perfect, our endpoint will be realised and peace achieved. But the peace we seek does not live out there. It is mainly internal, residing within the decisions we make, the values we hold and the way we meet life and its challenges.

To live well does not require the bending of our world and the people who inhabit it to our will. Instead, we should align our will with the world. We should develop the wisdom to know when to act and when to accept circumstances and outcomes. We should find contentment in knowing we have control over how we speak, how we respond and how we choose, but not over how things turn out. There is wisdom in setting this boundary, as well as a sense of liberation.

It is for this reason that we must understand control not as maintaining grip, but letting go.

This does not mean we surrender ourselves to a passive life, but rather that we live deliberately, with full awareness of what is ours to shape and influence. This is our character, effort and response. Even in moments of hardship and suffering, we maintain our freedom because no external conditions can govern how we choose to respond. As such, adversity is not pain, but an invitation to virtue.

Indeed, what are seemingly common inconveniences, such as waiting in traffic, facing delay and receiving criticism, are small training grounds for exercising freedom. In these moments, we must not ask, “How can I fix this?” but, “How can I meet this well?”

Control does not come from certainty, but from clarity, and an understanding of what belongs to us and what does not. This clarity does not make life easier, but it does make it lighter. For when we stop trying to control the uncontrollable, we stop tying our peace to the unpredictable.

To live with this kind of control is not to shrink our world, but to stand steadily within it and say, no matter what comes, I will meet it with grace.