We live in an anger-filled age. After an initial period of community care, the pandemic quickly “blanketed the country in misery and left us at each other’s throats. One of the most revealing data points is that during the pandemic, pedestrian deaths skyrocketed. People were just driving angry.”

I still see this almost every morning on my walk in downtown Silver Spring. Drivers run red lights and ignore stop signs. They honk at the car in front of them a millisecond after the light turns green. Too many drivers speed through heavily traveled pedestrian zones used by the elderly or race through residential neighborhoods filled with children on their way to school.

Since when did stop signs and red lights become suggestions?

At the beginning of 2025 we are halfway through the 2020s and several years out from the worst of the pandemic. Yet we haven’t adjusted our frustrations. We were angry at having to be confined by the pandemic, and we remain frustrated and frightened long after the worst of it has passed. We let our good habits atrophy as we sat in our pajamas at home and several years later we still haven’t moved past those base instincts. Too many of us act like children throwing a temper tantrum. We don’t have the discipline to focus on what’s essential, what matters, what’s around us.

So much of our anger, I’m afraid, comes from trying to control things that are, frankly, uncontrollable.

Letting go of control is hard. Really hard. With all the anxiety and pressure in today’s world, the tendency is to gather all we think we must do and hold on tight. But the fact is that we don’t have that much control. We may act as if we do, but our time will not stretch on indefinitely even though we work, plan, and live as if that’s the case. It is the desire to control, to try and ensure that our efforts will always be successful, that actually restricts us. This desire also keeps us from finding our true nature, our souls.

“Hard work and drawing up plans are helpful, but not always. We do not build our souls as much as we find them along the way. We discover them by accident as much as by intention. There is a time to take our lives in hand, but there is also a time to take our hands off our lives, and to leave what seems apparent and trust ourselves to the hidden.”

Marv and Nancy Hiles, Iona Center of Healdsburg, CA

When we open our eyes to how life really works—when we pay attention, in other words—we come to at least see, if not fully accept, the paradox of limitations. Only when we let go of the need to control do our lives become more productive, meaningful, and joyful. When we let go of the need to control, we can more easily accept—and even rejoice in—the life we are given. We open ourselves to seeing that our days are exceptional even when they are ordinary.

We may even find our souls.

We each have the ability to choose to let go of the anger and anxiety that is pushing us to race through life, acting out in bad ways. We have the ability to make the choice to step through the door. To release the hard grip we have on our lives.

Ryan Holiday quotes the Roman philosopher Seneca who said, “We suffer more in imagination than in reality.” These worst-case scenarios rarely happen, “and yet, the time and energy anxiety steals are gone forever.”

Anxiety comes from within us. We can choose to let it go. Slowing down to savor life’s gentle moments can help.

If we slow down we can take the time and notice all the wonder that is around us. We can think before we react. We can find the good in others. We can choose to put aside our screens and get outside for a walk. We can make the conscious decision to pick up a book and read. And yes, we can find surprising amounts of joy and wonder as we drive.

This often happens to me on 16th Street, NW in Washington.

Part of the city’s original plan, 16th Street was an early location for embassies and churches.  Most of the embassies have left, but one of the charms of the street is the beautiful church and institutional architecture that’s interspersed throughout the neighborhoods. 

Rock Creek Park fronts much of the western edge of the street as I head south from Silver Spring. The park is enchanting every time of year, but I especially like the winter, when you can see deeper into the forest and be mesmerized by the sculptural nature of the trees without their leaves.

The street also features the mansions of the Gold Coast—home for decades to many of Washington’s most affluent and accomplished African Americans. Colorado Avenue is a hidden gem, with a terrific two-block display of Gothic Revival residential architecture. I often take a slow turn down Blagden Terrace, which has a marvelous array of architectural styles in one short block.

As I cross Rock Creek at Pierce Mill, I also slow down and look at the dam, which was constructed in 1904 purely for aesthetic reasons. The visual effect is quite wonderful. On Sunday mornings, when we generally share the road only with joggers, hikers, and cyclists, Candice calls it our moment of Zen.

Driving the speed limit and following traffic regulations is about caring for others and their safety. It is one way we can live together more peacefully in community. At this slower pace, I am also able to enjoy the beauty—both natural and man-made—that is abundant in Washington.

If you find yourself still angry over the pandemic, or politics, or personal slights, slow down in everything you do. Let go. Loosen the grip you have on your life. Savor the gentle moments. We cannot always be in control.

More to come . . .

DJB

Door photo by Jan Tinneberg on Unsplash.