Letting go of what we can't control

A hard pill to swallow is the one that requires us to step back from offering help to those who don’t want it. Being in a position where we fear becoming entangled in a cycle of unreciprocated effort or having our words twisted can create confusion. It can undermine how we view the support and compassion we offer. Unfortunately, some people seem trapped in a loop of victimization and self-pity—an ironic choice, given that no one truly seeks out suffering.

Yet, I was struck by a concept in a book: troublesome Buddhas. The idea is that these types of individuals often unintentionally serve as triggers for our emotional disruption. They can drain our energy and alter our peace of mind, forcing us to confront truths we’d rather avoid. These troublesome Buddhas can be challenging to recognize and even harder to value. However, they offer us some of the most valuable lessons we may never have asked for. One of the first lessons they teach us is knowing when to disengage. Sometimes, it’s easier to separate ourselves from those who are merely strangers or fleeting annoyances—people and situations that don’t have a deep attachment in our lives. But when it comes to those we care about, those who have become part of our story, it’s much more difficult. Over time, we can become blind to how these relationships have affected us, brushing aside the negative patterns they’ve created in favor of maintaining some peace. The trick is recognizing when we’re being pulled into a toxic cycle, even if we’ve convinced ourselves that it doesn’t matter. It’s when emotions resurface—triggers and unwanted comments—that we realize something deeper is at play. We might try to rationalize it away, pretending it’s insignificant or not worth addressing. Yet, when we hit a breaking point, we’re forced to step back and see the truth: we’ve been numbing ourselves to the pattern, afraid to face what’s right in front of us. When we finally acknowledge these patterns, we often come face to face with a hard truth: we’ve allowed someone else’s pain to take over our sense of self. The second lesson these troublesome Buddhas teach us is that we can’t solve other people’s problems for them. No matter how much they may rely on us or how much we want to ease their suffering, we recognize when to separate. We learn that our energy has been given over to controlling their behavior—hoping that if we can help them see things differently, they’ll change. But in doing so, we lose sight of what we truly need: self-care and clarity. We begin to understand that we cannot force someone else’s growth or personal transformation, just as they cannot dictate ours. Offering support is one thing, but overextending ourselves—losing ourselves in their struggles—is another. The line between compassion and self-sacrifice can be thin. 

Once we learn to untangle ourselves from this entanglement, we realize something important: we cannot control another person’s life—they are the ones who have that responsibility. We can offer what we have, but we must know when to pull back - their journey is not ours to dictate. The key is to offer compassion, not solutions. By doing so, we give both ourselves and others the space to grow on our terms. It’s about finding balance—recognizing the need to detach from someone’s story to stay true to our own. Compassion doesn’t require us to take on the weight of someone else’s burdens; it simply asks us to be present, without losing ourselves in the process. When we learn to find that delicate balance, we open the door to greater clarity and personal growth, both for ourselves and those we care about.

Z.

"Zen and the Art of Dealing with Difficult People" by Mark Westmoquette