I must have confronted the facts of my adulthood only after I became J's mother. This describes how I felt after that. The degree of seeking and needing control ebbed and flowed over time but it never went away:
“What happens, as you get older, is you start to exert control, or at least influence, or try to get into control of things. And then people get a lot of anxiety when they realize the limits to their control. People are very aware of their vulnerabilities, yet still want to exert control. There’s this anxiety that comes from realizing you’re fragile and finite, yet you keep trying to manage or control that fragility.”
With J now an independent woman with a life of her own, my need and desire to control my environment have significantly diminished. I don't things as seriously as once used to. They matter much less if at all at this stage of my life. That is extremely liberating, but by this operating definition of what it means to be happy, I still have a ways to go:
..what a happy life means. It’s one that lives in the joyful space between control and passivity. It’s one that recognizes limits and lives with them. It’s jumping into the boxed walls of the sandpit to make castles and cities. Happiness is a monk dancing at a wedding.