“There is a powerful craving in most of us to see ourselves as instruments in the hands of others and thus free ourselves from the responsibility for acts which are prompted by our own questionable inclinations and impulses. Both the strong and the weak grasp at this alibi. The latter hide their malevolence under the virtue of obedience: they acted dishonorably because they had to obey orders. The strong, too, claim absolution by proclaiming themselves the chosen instrument of a higher power — God, history, fate, nation, or humanity.” ~BRUCE LEE
Who among us hasn’t at some point wished for a reprieve from the multi-faceted responsibilities of adulthood? Or longed for the carefree days of childhood, when bills, jobs, groceries, taxes, laundry, inflation and politics were far from our thoughts? How quickly we forget our adolescent pleas for autonomy and freedom from perceived parental tyranny when we learn that with freedom and privilege comes increased responsibility.
The freedom to drive brings responsibility to maintain the car, obey the rules of the road, and comply with things like insurance and licensing. The freedom to rent or buy a house brings the responsibility for maintenance (like cleaning and mowing the grass), paying the rent or mortgage in a timely manner. The freedom to have children brings with it all the never-ending responsibilities of parenthood.
It’s much easier to, as Bruce Lee stated, pretend we are merely a tool in the hand of some greater power, unable to do our own bidding.
As a small child when asked “who made this mess?” or “who did this?” I reportedly answered, “The blue monkeys did it.” I have no idea where the monkeys came from or why they were blue, but they were my default scapegoat. That urge to escape responsibility starts early, and for some, continues throughout life.
When tempted to complain now, I’m working on asking myself first, “What is my responsibility here?” before I start looking for someone or something to blame. All too often I find I’m the responsible party. On one level that’s frustrating. On another level, it’s freeing. If I’m responsible, I can do something about the situation. Nothing is more demoralizing than playing the part of the victim.
