At the advice of my marathon training book*, I�m trying to exercise an internal locus of control. That is, I�m trying to convince myself that my life is directed by me, rather than by external forces. Apparently, this will allow me to do things I never thought possible, like running a marathon. The book notes that it doesn�t matter whether I really control my life or not, as long as I think I do.

This is not a new idea for me. It�s a central tenet of Smart Recovery. Here�s an example of how the inner locus of control idea works. Say I�ve had a bad day at work. I could cede control of my life to external, negative forces by thinking something like, �What a horrible day. I�ve got to have a drink. I need stress relief.� That way, I�m allowing external forces (the bad day) to dictate what I do. Or I could bring that power back inside. �Not a good day. This is the kind of thing that makes me want to drink, but I know that�ll made me feel worse in the end so I choose not to do it.� It seems simple, but it�s really a mind-bending exercise.

So, that�s all good. I can put my locus down, flip it and reverse it. But lately, it seems like more aspects of my life than usual are blatantly out of my control. I�ve spent the last month or two waiting for other people to decide whether or not to hire me, whether or not to allow me to move into their group house, and even whether or not to give me a nice award (thank you, Diarist.Net). Some say the waiting is the hardest part, but the eventual rejection is a bitch too. All in all, I�ve had a lot of uncertainty lately.

I suppose I could say I have control over the job and housing decisions in that I set those damned balls rolling -- I mean, I chose to look for a new job and find a new place to live. What would really please me, though, would be if I could somehow train myself to embrace uncertainty, even relish it, instead of shrinking from it like a snail from salt. It seems to me that if I could deal more effectively with uncertainty, I�d be happier and calmer for longer stretches at a time for the rest of my life. I might even be able to accept one of the larger uncertainties hanging over my head -- whether or not I�ll start drinking again. As long as I�m not ready to say I�ll never drink again, the possibility remains that I may decide to start drinking again. The uncertainty rattles around in my head like a bat in the house. I wouldn�t mind living with the bat if I could just calm it down, or make some kind of pet of it.

*The Non-Runner�s Marathon Trainer, by David A. Whitsett, Forrest A. Dolgener, and Tanjala Mabon Kole

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