Letting Go of the Steering Wheel We Never Had: Recognising What We Can (and Can't) Control
"Some things are up to us, and some things are not up to us."
- Epictetus
We can all feel exhausted from trying to steer things that were never ours to drive. It could be replaying a conversation we can't rewrite, refreshing our phone for a reply we’re unable to make magically appear, or white-knuckling our way through a diagnosis as if sheer willpower might undo it.
Nearly 2,000 years ago, a formerly enslaved Stoic philosopher named Epictetus named this experience:
"Some things are up to us, and some things are not up to us."
It sounds too simple to be useful, the ancient equivalent of "have you tried turning it off and on again?" but the idea has become one of the more useful principles in psychology and it can be practically useful rather than just something to write on a motivational poster.
Why Our Brain Loves to Grip the Wheel
From an evolutionary view, we survive by anticipating danger. Our ancestors who noticed rustling in the bushes generally outlived those who shrugged it off. The downside is that once we learn this lesson, we don’t really “unlearn”, and it’s hard to switch this off. The result is that we tend to treat any uncertainty like an emergency, even when the "threat" is an unanswered text or an outcome that hasn't happened yet.
It’s why we Google symptoms at 1am, replay arguments searching for the sentence that would have "fixed" it, or treat someone else's mood as a puzzle we're personally responsible for solving. We confuse responsibility with control, feeling accountable for outcomes that are not ours to control.
It's a bit like trying to negotiate with the weather. We can shake our fist at the rain, refresh the forecast every three minutes, and still get wet because we forgot an umbrella. The energy spent protesting doesn't change the outcome, it just leaves us soggy and tired.
What Does the Evidence Say?
The principles of Epictetus's idea overlap strongly with research. A meta-analytic study showed that increasing psychological flexibility while reducing avoidance is linked to reducing distress, others have found specific improvements in anxiety and depression long term. Research into coping flexibility tells us that our wellbeing isn't about having control over everything, or nothing, it's about how accurately we can match our response (problem-solving versus acceptance) to whether a situation is actually changeable.
It’s also helpful for couples, where research on the locus of control and dyadic coping suggests it can be helpful for parents to explore where they see the control, and who they think is in the driver’s seat. Often both parties have a different view of who’s steering and this can cause conflict.
The Three Zones That Matter: Control, Influence, and What Isn't Ours to Determine
This is fine in theory, but life rarely splits neatly into "can change" and "can't change," it’s more accurate to see the 3 sides:
Direct control: What I can do right now (my actions, my words, how I spend the next hour).
Influence: Things I can affect but not determine (a relationship repairing, a job application succeeding, a friend's wellbeing).
Outside my control: This can be the past, other people's choices, even our bodily or emotional reactions, and other external parts of life feeling unfairness.
In reality "influence" is where most of us live, it’s also where we can get stuck feeling like a failure for not fully controlling something we could only partially affect.
Acceptance Isn't Approval
When we accept that something is outside our control, it does not mean agreeing that it's fine, fair, or acceptable that it happened.
Acceptance means acknowledging reality as it currently is so we can respond to it effectively, not resigning ourselves to it, not excusing it, and not suppressing how we feel about it. We can acknowledge the two truths that "this is genuinely unjust" and "fighting the fact that it happened isn't where my energy is best spent right now." Radical acceptance isn't surrender; it's clarity.
Stop Watering the Neighbour's Garden
Imagine you've got a small amount of water each day, and a garden of your own that needs it. Now imagine spending most of that water hosing down your neighbour's garden instead, a garden you don't own, can't control the layout of, and that may not even want your help.
That's what happens when we pour our limited emotional energy into other people's choices, the past, or outcomes several steps removed from anything we can act on today. Meanwhile, our own garden, our actions, our responses, our next right step, sits dry.
We don’t want to stop caring about the neighbour's garden (we might still be able to see it from this side of the fence), but we want to notice when we've been standing there with the hose for three hours while our own plants wilt.
What Can I Do? (Because Insight Alone Doesn't Change Anything)
The Three-Column Control Inventory
Draw three columns: Direct Control, Influence, Not Currently Mine to Determine.
List what's weighing on you and sort them into each category.
Each week, choose one item from the "Direct Control" or "Influence" column and identify one small, specific action you can take towards those goals.
It’s not "fix the relationship," but "send one honest text."
The Acceptance Pause
When you notice yourself gripping something you can’t control, pause and ask:
"What would it look like to acknowledge this fully, just for today, without pretending I'm fine with it?"
We’re not avoiding, just making space so our energy isn't consumed by a fight we can't win today.
The Shared Garden Exercise (for couples)
Each partner separately lists a shared stressor into each of the three zones, then compares notes.
Do you both see things the same? Where do perceptions differ?
Together, build one shared "Influence" column, and choose a single joint action you can both take for the week.
This targets the idea there may be a difference in what you both think you can control and brings you back to the same side.
When the Idea Needs Extra Care
This is a reflective tool, not a rule for every situation. It shouldn’t be used to minimise grief, excuse mistreatment, or discourage someone from seeking safety, support, or systemic change. There are many circumstances where "acceptance" is not the same as tolerating harm, and pursuing justice, safety, or support is very much within the "direct control" or "influence" columns, not something to be talked out of.
The Point Isn't to Control Less. It's to Control Better.
None of this is about becoming a detached, feeling-nothing Stoic in sandals. We want to recognise that our time and energy are finite, and that every hour spent gripping the unchangeable is an hour we are not spening on the small, real, doable things that have the potential to actually move our lives forward.
Epictetus didn't have psychology workbooks or Sunday couples check-ins, but he he had a concept that research supports: our sense of peace doesn't come from controlling everything, it comes from correctly identifying what's ours to hold, and having the courage to actually pick it up.
