This is an excerpt from the Personal Growth Recording: ‘Busting Free: Beyond the Need to Control‘
You love. Absolutely, you do. You have grown, you have changed, you have evolved. And you do love. You feel love with your Unseen Friends and with your Inner Child and Inner Adolescent. You feel love outside in your illusion, in this physical realm. Oh yes, you do.
But, you see, you also feel the need to control, and that control robs you of the intensity, the depth, the beauty, and certainly the power of that love. And through the decades you’ve become so conditioned to that control that it is like the drone of a fan: It’s only when it stops that you realize, ‘Oh, my gosh.’ It’s only when the control is gone that you start feeling what love can really be, what power it really has. And when you do, you no longer have to settle just for the words, just for the poetry that for so long you’ve had to settle for. You actually experience that love far more deeply, far more richly than you ever have. Love really is all there is. It really is everything people say it is, and oh, it is so much more.
Of course you do love. But even so, the price of control is giving up love, banishing it, renouncing it to whatever degree.
In the consensus reality, there are those who live control. They have no idea (and don’t care to know) of its devastation. They don’t care to know the damage that it can do, the successes it can sabotage, the hopes it can dash, the dreams it can destroy. They don’t want to have anything to do with looking at how it fuels and fosters so much of the denial and the resistance they have. They don’t want to know how much it is a consistent answer and response to fear and crisis in a world where you’re not supposed to have those kinds of fears. If you’re afraid of spiders and snakes, OK. But get over it, get past it when it comes to anything more significant or more real. Yours is a world where crisis is a dirty word. Yours is a world where if you have a crisis you’re at least to have the decency to keep it quiet and get over it as fast as you can so others won’t be too disappointed in how humiliating it is that you had a crisis. And so control.
There are those who enter life seeing its purpose purely as getting more of the stuff, more of the trappings. There are those who are so locked in that dominating masculine principle, so devoted and so dedicated to the logic and reason and the constraints of the consensus. And the price they pay is the abject denial of love.
You have grown, you have changed. It is not that severe in you. But even so, you have denied the love you could have had. You have rejected a deeper level and intensity of love even though you desire it. The price of the need to control, with its patterns and behaviors, is love. Subsequently, the price is your feminine energy and your access and familiarity with your Soul and your Spirit. It interrupts, twists, and distorts the communication you have from your Higher Self, your Counselors, and from any number of your Unseen Friends. And it disrupts the flow of what otherwise could be your Magic: For your High Magic of choice — where techniques seem not visible at all — and your Low Magic, with its many techniques, are crippled by that incessant and ever-present need to control. So yes, you do love. But you could feel it so much more. You could receive it so much more.
You see, control, regardless of its origins, comes down to fear. People who control — you in your control — are fearing. It all comes down to fear around love — fear about love, fear associated with, attached to, and connected to love. It all comes down to that.
For some of you it may have begun lifetimes ago. It may have been in one of your incarnations of significance, or one that may otherwise seem insignificant, where something happened that was so threatening, so terrifying, so completely debilitating, that it created a level of fear that was far too intense to handle — so intense that it got shoved down into the Unconscious. For some of you it came from another lifetime, or a juncture of several impacted lifetimes, all apexing in a tremendous need to control — a tremendous, convincing — immortally convincing — need to control. Shoved into the Unconscious then, it only now emerges when you are able to handle it in this lifetime. It’s not to punish you. It comes now when you can handle it, when you can do something about it. You laid forth a future that THIS would be the lifetime where you handled it, and thus now it emerges.
For others of you, the source of your control may be purely of this lifetime: a fear around love that was so intense, so immense that it threw you into a place of control. You may be jealous, envious, filled with the rage, and therefore seeking vindication, seeking revenge, seeking power at any price. It’s valuable to know; it’s valuable to source that. It’s valuable to understand and perhaps heal it and release it at its source so that the healing might flow and flood through each generation and through each lifetime — through yourself if that’s where it began.
But it all comes down to fear around love. The fear and fears of getting love, the fear and fears of holding onto it once you do get it, and the fear and fears of being unable to respond, unable to be responsible for that love. It all comes down to that core: the denial of fear to protect love. Sometimes you protect it because you feel you’re not ready, or you’re not good enough yet. Or you think you don’t deserve love yet — but someday you will — so you section it off. You put it aside and tuck it away and hermetically seal it in fear. Because one of these days you’re going to be good enough, you’re going to be entitled, and then you’ll crack the vault and have that love. But not yet. How many of you have torn out your hair at a potential partner who has come to you and said, ‘I’m not ready for commitment … I’m not ready for this level of intimacy … I’m not ready … It’s happening far too quickly …’?
Control is fear around the issues of love. The more intense your control, the more frightened you are. The more frightened you are, the more arenas of your life you’ll feel the need to use your control or to play it out. Those who are ‘control freaks’ are terrified, absolutely terrified of life. And your levels of control vary. Some people feel it so intensely they’ve got to control strangers. But most of you don’t feel that need, because, you see, with strangers love isn’t involved, so you aren’t afraid. You have different arenas in your life. Some of you have arenas of work, and you have arenas of play. You have arenas of your spiritual growth, certainly so. You have arenas of your body. Some of you feel an immense need to control your body, so afraid, so afraid that it isn’t good enough to be loved the way it is.
And you will find that your need to control fluctuates. It may even be slightly different in one arena or another, but it fluctuates even so. Therefore, it’s very possible that a person could be very non-controlling at work, for example, even though that work is what pays the bills and provides the roof over their head. Because when fear about love is not involved, then the need to control is diminished. When it comes to loving relationships, however, this same easygoing, noncontrolling person can suddenly become a tyrant. Then the feeling is, ‘This is where I never could get love, or where I could lose love, or where I cannot respond to love.’ Then there is fear around love. Then there is control.
And if perchance your work setting suddenly became of a nature where you really loved this work, this job, this place, these people, suddenly the need to control would increase. The intensity of the control is determined directly with the level of intensity of love that is there.
And so you can look at it and say, ‘Hey, how do you mean … me control? Look at me at work. I’m just …’ Yeah, but how about you at home? What about you where love counts? What about you where love matters? How about you with your Higher Self? ‘Oh, I’d never think of controlling.’ Oh, maybe not in the tyrannical sense you might in your physical reality, but maybe in ways you wouldn’t otherwise suspect.
Control fluctuates. It fluctuates and shifts and changes depending upon the fear of love, depending upon the fear and the love. That is always the key. As you control, you’re terrified of not getting love, or terrified of losing love, or terrified of not being able to respond to it. And the height of that terror increases your need, and the behaviors and patterns, of control.
Many of you find that when you think about a relationship you don’t have — be it a with a physical intimate or with an intimate of another nature — you have a certain savvy. For example, you know that loving relationships are about giving and not being concerned about receiving. You know that they are about understanding the other person, not necessarily worrying about being understood by them. You’ve got it all right. And indeed, for others who are in loving relationships and are having difficulty, you can often be a wonderful source of inspiration and help and insight.
Then you meet somebody — an intimate of a physical or nonphysical kind — and suddenly Dr. Jekyll becomes Mr. Hyde. Suddenly: ‘I’ve got to hold on. I’ve got to keep it.’ Now you use all these skills (at which you were so adept in terms of helping others) to corral that person, to make them toe the line, to make them stay with you. ‘You can’t get along without me. You can’t survive without me.’ Suddenly …
There’s this one with whom we talk. He’s a very important man in his career, and there are many, many people that pay him many, many dollars for his advice and his connections. Yet every time he meets a woman, by the second time he’s dated her, he’s decided he’s going to marry her, that she’s going to have his children, and he tells her so. And then he wonders why she backs away. Somehow she doesn’t like her life all planned out by the second date, no matter how attracted to him she may have been. And he can’t figure it out. He can’t figure out what in the world is going on. Control. All of a sudden … you see?
Even in a loving relationship where you both are really spiritually evolving — a beautiful, loving relationship — suddenly one day you wake up, and you realize you love this person so much more than you ever dreamt you could. And suddenly you want to control them. ‘What’s wrong with me? I know better than this!’ What has happened is that love has reached the level of fear.
Now that doesn’t justify it, that doesn’t say, ‘Oh, well, all right, go right ahead.’ It’s rather just to explain what happens. For wherever love increases to the level of fear, control — lying dormant thus far in that arena — emerges. It is elusive, ever-changing, ever-shifting. That’s why just trying to stop the behaviors never works. Even if you stopped every one of them — gritted your teeth, turned down the screws, exerted control over yourself — chameleon-like other forms would pop up.
Now just as all control comes down to fear around love, so its goal, among other things, is to be safe with love. That’s what you are trying to accomplish: safety around love. You’re motivated out of fear, and wanting to deny that fear, not wanting to deal with that fear, not wanting to own or look at or feel or experience that fear so as to protect this love that you’re so afraid you’ll never get — so afraid you cannot hold onto — so afraid that you cannot respond to even if you should, by chance, by some fluke, by some weird stuff, ever get it and keep it for awhile. That’s what’s motivating you, this incredible fear. What you’re trying to accomplish with control is to be safe.
Now, some of you may also want to tack onto that a desire to be better than other people, to be superior to others, to have that hit, that cheap hit of power over other people. Sure, but if that were all you got, you wouldn’t keep it up. It’s about safety. That’s the highest priority, because the reason you want to feel better than others is to be safe. The reason you want to make others squirm is to be safe.
Now it’s not a healthy way to be safe. Please don’t misinterpret here and decide that because you have fear around love you therefore have a right to control. ‘Even Lazaris said so. It’s all right. You made me afraid, so therefore, you made me control.’ NO! NO! Nobody makes you control. Nobody makes you. ‘You scared me and therefore I fell back into control.’ That was your choice. They didn’t make you do it. ‘I’m just trying to be safe.’ That doesn’t mean that makes it OK to control. ‘Oh, well then, go right ahead. Go ahead, control me. At least you’re not trying to be maniacal. Just keep stabbing me in the heart. That’s OK. If that makes you feel safe, just go right ahead.’ No! You’ll bleed to death, and then they’ll have to go stab someone else, because you’re no more fun.
So we’re NOT saying that because the motivation is fear around love, isn’t control beautiful? We’re NOT saying that since what you’re really trying to find is safety with love, control is endearing. No, it doesn’t make it OK. And it doesn’t mean that you, who are the recipients of such control, need to put up with it.
An appropriate response may be: ‘I can understand that you are afraid of having, losing, or responding to love, but the way you’re handling that doesn’t work for me. So either you change, or I’m out of here. I understand that when you try to control me you’re just trying to be safe. But your safety is lethal. I won’t play. I understand what it is. I don’t think you’re some devil. I don’t think you’re some evil spirit. I think you’re a frightened person who just wants to be safe, but the means by which you’re doing that are destructive to me, and I cannot, out of any respect for myself, play in this arena with you.’
But understand that still, it’s motivated out of fear around love, and its goal is to be safe around love. That’s what you’re after. Control motivated out of fear and love, and it is an attempt to establish safety around love. It is ironic as well that in the face of love, people who control get angry. You get angry in the face of love. Depending upon the intensity of control, you get angry. Obviously, those who control massively get incredibly angry. With those who control less powerfully, less intensely, the anger is diminished, yes. But you always get angry in the face of love. As much as you want it, as much as you’re afraid you’re never going to get it, as much as you’re afraid you’re never going to hold onto it, as much as you’re afraid that even if you did you could never properly respond to it, as much as you want it, when you finally face it, you get angry. Often you turn tail and run, because love reminds you of your fear, reminds you of what you can’t have, or rather what you don’t have and what you wouldn’t be able to keep even if you got it. It reminds you …
It’s like being on a diet and somebody puts chocolate cake in front of you. It makes you angry because it reminds you of what you can’t have. Love reminds you of what you fear the most: never getting love. It also makes the need to control more intense. ‘I’ve gotta, I’ve gotta, I’ve gotta so I can get that love, so that I can be safe, so that I can always win, so that I can have some sense of value, meaning, some worth, some power so that I can deny my fears, so that I can …’
Not only does it remind you of what you can’t have, but because where love is control intensifies, it makes you angry. There are very few of you anymore who enjoy control. It gives you a hit here and there, but you know you shouldn’t do it. You try to keep it hidden, and when love’s there, you can’t hide it. And it makes you angry
Also, receiving makes you angry. Sometimes, when we say, ‘Now, we want you to do this meditation, and in the meditation, we’re going to fill you with this, and change this, and fix it.’ No! No! It makes you angry.
There’s one we talk with who finally said, ‘You know, Lazaris, every time you say that you’re waiting at the edge of my reality loving me, I get so furious I can’t stand it. It makes me so angry. I’m doing fine in the meditation, doing just great, and then you have to say that you’ll love me forever. Don’t say that! It makes me angry when you say that.’
In the face of love, you get angry. You get angry when you control. Why won’t you let this technique work, or that technique work for you? Because it’s too akin to love. Why won’t you let the magic work with a consistency? Because it’s too akin to love. Yes, it may have those other ramifications also, but so much of it is around control. ‘I don’t want to lose control. I need to control, don’t you see?’
Ironically as well, love makes you turn and run because love is a threat to control. You see, when you feel love, control is in jeopardy. It breaks down the game. When you are feeling love, it breaks down the patterns, it breaks down the behavior. You just can’t do it. ‘Yes, I can.’ No, you can’t.
Control is not love. Even though that’s what you’re trying to protect, even though that’s what you’re trying to make, it isn’t a loving act. And while you’re doing it, you’re not loving. Because when you are feeling the love, you can’t control. The need can still exist, understand, but you can’t do it. You can’t do it.
If you are in a fight with someone you love, you may recognize: I’m controlling now, I’m trying to control them. Fearful of this love, fearful around this love, I’m trying to protect it, I’m trying to make it safe on my terms. And I’m saying that you’re just like your mother, or you’re just like your father, or just like my ex to try to get you in line again, to get you where I want you. And that’s not loving.’ But if you will genuinely do the loving, control vanishes. The behavior, the pattern of control vanishes. If it doesn’t, then you didn’t feel the love. ‘Did, too!’ No, you didn’t.
You see, self-pity cannot thrive when you feel love. Love and self-pity are antithetical to one another. You can’t feel sorry for yourself and feel love at the same time. Now you can feel sorry for yourself and stop that and feel love, and stop that and feel self-pity. You can go back and forth, sure. You’re capable of doing a lot of things. You’re very adroit. But you see, when you’re in pity, you see, you can’t feel the love. When you feel the love you cannot feel sorry for yourself unless you turn off the love for a moment. ‘Oh, poor me.’ And turn it back on. ‘Oh, poor me.’ And you can’t feel like a martyr, you can’t be a martyr, when you feel the love. You can’t feel guilt. In fact, none of the anaesthetics work when you feel love.
So when love’s there, not only can you not control, but also the love breaks down the pattern. It breaks down the behavior, and it eliminates the ‘support group’ of anaesthetics.
When you face your control and how ugly it is — ‘So I’m going to have to face that I’m being controlling, and how ugly that is’ — you may feel sorry for yourself, judge yourself, go into stagnation, head into repression, or feel so guilty that you never really deal with how ugly the control is. You see? But in the face of love, the ‘support team’ is gone.
Love can also do for the need to control what it does for the pattern of control. When you feel love, and really let love in, you are out of control. Not ‘out of control,’ which is how the controlling ears hear that. ‘See, I knew it! Out of control!’ No: You are out of the place of control — out of the place of controlling. Not out of control, which is itself a form of control.
It’s an interesting and important play on words. Love makes you out of control — out of being a controlling person, unable to continue the patterns, unable to continue the behaviors, unable to support and justify such patterns and behaviors with the anaesthetics that you usually use.
Love can heal the need. Love can heal the need. And then you will be out, then you will be out of control, free of control. But the control itself hears that as ‘out of control’ in the sense of being in a state of chaos, in a state of free fall, in an unsafe state where you always lose, where you have no meaning, where you will be swallowed up by your fear, where you will be empty, devastated, and powerless.
Love and control are made of the same stuff. They’re spun of the same light, not a light your eyes can see, but light. Love and control are spun of the same light. You are either going to spin control, or you’re going to spin love. You can’t spin both. That’s where love can set you free of control. It can let you out of the prison. And that’s why control denounces love and tries to imprison it — to idolize it, to pedestalize it, to turn it to stone, denouncing and imprisoning. Love and control are made of the same stuff.
It’s love that can and indeed will set you free of the need to control. And as the need is set free, it’s only a matter of time, usually a very short time, before the patterns fall, before the behaviors end.
The Question is: Do you back away into control, or do you plunge headlong into the love? What would a Fool do? A Spiritual Fool? A Spiritual Fool would plunge headlong into love.
Be the Spiritual Fool. Plunge headlong into love.
Turn up your light, for even if you don’t know where you are going, it’ll be brighter when you get there.
With love and peace …