Do You Really Have the Power to Transform Yourself?
It happened shortly after Christmas in 2002. At age 13, sitting on the floor surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers, I ripped out a new sheet of brightly-coloured red construction paper and procured a sharpie from my dad’s office. Then, the marker squeaking audibly, I penned my first New Year’s resolution in carefully scripted, curly writing: Get A Boyfriend.
Since that moment, I have felt the desire – nay, the promise – of tantalizing, self-propelled transformation. I mean, what a concept: that you can decree that something will be so, and then it is so.
Imagine that you have the potential to bend the universe to your will, whether that means getting your dream job, decreasing the measurement of your waistline, attracting the greatest love of your life, manifesting new business opportunities, dancing in the shower of the riches you have demanded and then received, or crossing the finish line of the Ironman you said you would complete.
The possibilities: endless.
And you know what, dear reader? A few months after writing that resolution, I won myself a strapping young boyfriend for a couple of months. My parents, with whom I had shared my resolution, were pretty impressed, and I believe they still have that piece of red paper stashed away to this day. Some parents keep their children’s trophies – my parents kept my 2003 resolution to get a boyfriend. It’s a strange thing to be proud of your child for, but hey, I made a small slice of magic for myself. We all patted me on the back.
Spurred on by this initial success, I started to make resolutions in earnest. When I was 15, I resolved to convince my parents to buy me a horse. When I was 18, I resolved to write a novel (and continued to do so for the next 15 years). When I was 20, I resolved to run a marathon. I failed at every single goal.
These days, I’m one of those people who makes New Year's resolutions while claiming I never make them and think they’re pointless. Even though I fail repeatedly, there’s some flickering hope that if I tweak the wording, or the perspective, or strategy, or the benchmarks, that it will work. I’ve tried to pick a word of the year – the simplest form of intention. I’ve tried to pick feelings. I’ve tried to be extremely precise with my goals, and I’ve also tried to be extremely vague. A full twenty years after my first resolution, I often feel like I haven’t figured life out any more than I had then.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about that resolution to get a boyfriend.
I made that resolution from a place of great passion, and also deep frustration with myself. At the time, I really liked boys. And, if I do say so myself, despite my braces and crippling shyness, boys seemed to like me. My frustration with myself was that I just couldn’t make anything happen, even when all the elements were in place – me, him, interest, and opportunity.
I was the kind of girl who would run away from my crushes at lunchtime, literally freeze with terror if one of them approached me, or find myself expecting some kind of romantic meet-cute that can only be fabricated in a film. Too coy, too speechless, and in a way, crippled by my own desires.
When I made the boyfriend resolution, it was backed by clarity and a heavy dose of pragmatism. I see now that it was less about the boy and more about myself. It was my stake in the ground, as if I was saying: Enough of this. Enough of hiding, of being afraid, of making this impossible. It’s time to show up and be confident.
Which boy asked me out didn’t matter so much to me. It was more about me being open to boys and all the mysterious things they would bring into my life, and being open to feeling uncomfortable or unsure or awkward. I wanted to grow up. I wanted to feel confident and have fun. I wanted to stop taking myself so seriously.
I’m writing this article at the very end of December, when the nights are long, dark and frigid: perfect for introspection and quiet, secret resolution-setting. As I contemplate my past and look to my future, my mind goes to the concept of “Locus of Control”, something I think plays a huge role in how, and whether, we can transform our experiences.
Locus of Control.
I first learned about the concept of locus of control on a Stoicism podcast. The idea is that as we go through life, experiencing both hardship and good times, we tend to carry one of two perspectives: An external locus of control, or an internal locus of control.
Say your friend is angry with you because you didn’t return her urgent text, but you were in the mountains out of cell range. You’ll probably have one of two habitual reactions:
The first reaction is to roll your eyes and blame her for feeling hurt and angry. You might think her expectations are too high; it’s not like she is the queen of your life, and what were you supposed to do, let her know ahead of time that you would be in the mountains, expecting that she might text you? This is an example of a strong external locus of control: the tendency to immediately place blame on other people, or on external factors in your life, and release yourself from responsibility. When we have an external locus of control, we tend to let go of self-blame easier, but on the flip-side, it’s easier to frame ourselves as constant victims of unfair situations and treatment.
The second reaction is to feel guilty and apologize to her for not responding. When you recall your previous conversations with her, you might realize that yes, she said she might get in touch about something important that day, and you failed to notify her that you wouldn’t be in cell range. At this point, you try your best to make up for your mistake. This is an example of a strong internal locus of control: the tendency to take full responsibility and blame for any misstep, misunderstanding, whether it’s infinitesimally small or huge, regardless of factors that are impossible to control. When we have an internal locus of control, we tend to step into mature self-responsibility and not feel like victims, but on the flip-side, we can blame ourselves unfairly and try to over-control outcomes.
It’s hardly ever this simple, though. We usually ping-pong between both perspectives – initially apologizing, for instance, and then later feeling bitter when things settle down. Or initially blaming your friend, then realizing you had made her a promise and basically ghosted her, and then having to back-peddle and re-open the conversation.
This is why aiming for a balanced locus of control can be seen as an opportune state: Stepping back from the charged emotions of the moment and recognizing that your friend is upset for reasons that probably have nothing to do with you (allowing some compassion for her), while also seeing that you can take responsibility for your response to her reaction. She isn’t making you angry or making you do anything. Your reaction, your perspective, is your choice
How does this locus of control apply to personal transformation?
When I look back at the goals I made that were a total fail, I can see my determination to force them into existence. Another way to say this is having too strong of an internal locus of control – taking all the responsibility for an outcome that is impacted by many factors outside myself, such as convincing my parents to buy me a horse, which in my childhood I didn’t realize was not financially feasible. When you have too strong of an internal locus of control, you try to control other people and the circumstances that are bigger than you. Failure hits really hard. Most importantly, you can miss out on the amazing, magical, unexpected transformations that are offered to you instead.
For example, I still haven’t finished that novel I’ve resolved to finish for years, but I’ve written so many other good things. I started a business. If it was my resolution to write, then by god, I have written several novels worth of meaningful copy in the last year, including ghostwriting someone else’s book. Perhaps my own novel just wasn’t as important to me as I wanted it to be, and that’s ok. Gifts from the universe come in strange packages, and sometimes you need to be open enough to dance with them, rather than wallow in disappointment that the exact thing you intended didn’t come about.
There’s another kind of goal setter – the person who sets a goal and then doesn’t show up for it, waiting for external elements and people to step up and facilitate their success. This is having too high of an external locus of control, which results in the removal of self from the process of transformation. If you’re waiting for things to magically fall into place without doing the hard work, or you’re quick to blame other people or circumstances for holding back your progress, you might have a temporary imbalance of external locus of control. In this case, recognize how much power you have inside you to bring about change. It has to start with you, and the effort must be maintained by you. No one and no circumstance has the ability to keep you imprisoned unless you decide it has that power.
Transformation is Intention + Commitment + Passion + Openness
These days, I do my resolutions differently.
I used to make outcome-based goals like “get a boyfriend” or “run a marathon”. I think the boyfriend one worked because I was just so open to any experience, and taking ownership and responsibility for my own part to play. I wasn’t just waiting around for it to happen, nor was I demanding perfect conditions to be laid at my feet. In contrast, the marathon goal didn’t work because I didn’t enjoy running very much. Without the ability to be flexible inside that goal, I was doomed to failure. When I look back, I was incredibly fit that year – in my subconscious attempts to avoid running, I took up cycling and rowing. I just didn’t see it for the success it was.
I have learned from the marathon goal. This year, I want to feel consistently strong and well in my body, so that is what I’ve written down.
“Feel consistently strong and well in my body” serves as something to reflect on when I’m feeling a little down and out. I can ask myself: do I feel consistently strong and well in my body these days? Consistency is what I struggle with, so this reminder can get me out and moving, whether that means hitting up the gym, going to a yoga class with a friend, or just going for a walk around the neighourhood. No matter what form it takes, that feeling of consistent strength and wellness is what I’m aiming for.
This strategy will not work for everyone, but if you clicked on this article, you are probably interested in self-transformation as much as I am! If you also fail at your goals, ask yourself whether you tend to bring an internal or external locus of control to the goals you make, and figure out how you can make space for balance within that perspective – for me that means more flexibility, openness, and riding the waves of the unexpected. For you, that might mean stepping back into your personal power and seeing beyond the people and circumstances you perceive are working against you.
No matter what people say, this time of year feels special. If you see it as an open door, then it is. Let’s cross over.
Brittany Veenhuysen is a writer and co-founder of BrandPsyche. With a BA in English and a philosophical lens, she uses strategic storytelling to connect entrepreneurial folk with people they love to serve.
If you liked this article, you may also enjoy another Magician article: On Synchronicity & Magic Making. Dive in and explore the dizzying heights and deep wells of transformation that the universe offers.
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