Responsibility. Itï¿œs a word that conjures up images of toiling at a job you hate, paying your bills on time, and taking out the trash before a foul and mysterious odor permeates the kitchen. In short, responsibility makes us think of all the things we donï¿œt like, but are forced, to do.
Yet it seems to me that responsibility is getting a bad name here. For every obligation it seems to force upon us, it provides a corresponding degree of freedom. More to the point, in fact, thatï¿œs what responsibility is; freedom.
To get from obligation to freedom, you have to view responsibility not as a burden, but a simple statement of fact. In truth, we are all responsible for our lives. Does that just mean that we have to pay our bills and go to the dentist? On the surface, maybe, those are some expressions of responsibility. But ultimately, what it means is that all the events in your life have occurred because of the choices youï¿œve made. Think of the last painting you sawï¿œthere wasnï¿œt a single brushstroke there by accident; they were all there because of the actions of the artist. Now consider: you are the artist of your own life. Every event, every person, every image, is there because youï¿œve drawn it there. And the beautiful part is, like the artist, you can always change the picture, or switch to a new canvas altogether. And thatï¿œs the ultimate truth of responsibility. When you look back at it through the lens of time, it appears a burden, but when you look ahead toward the possibilities, itï¿œs all a blank canvas, waiting to be filled in.
Of course, not everything in our lives seems to be there by design, right? After all, everyone feels as though they are adrift from time to time, their lives changing at the whims of others or of fate rather than by their own decisions. And yet itￜs still true that no matter what other factors there are, it is the individualsￜ actions that led them to the present.
Consider. Iￜm divorced, live in the suburbs of Chicago and work as a corporate trainer. I probably never would have moved to Chicago if I hadnￜt gotten married ￜ my ex is from the area originally. Obviously, I wouldnￜt have married her if we hadnￜt met. Ours was a long-distance relationship, and I met her when she was visiting a mutual friend at college in Missouri. Eventually I decided to go visit her in Iowa. My truck broke down, turning what would have been a 2-day trip into a 5-day marathon. We kept seeing each other and a year or so later, I moved to Iowa. We dated, both (eventually, in my case) graduated from college, moved in together, got married, moved to Chicago, had all manner of angst interesting only to ourselves, and got divorced. A long series of events, to be sure.
But what was the causal event? Was it fate, or chance, or my failure to check the oil in my truck before driving to Iowa? Given the way things turned out, do I want to take responsibility for it? Well, Iￜm happier now than Iￜve been in years ￜ but what if I wasnￜt? Does the situation make me any more or less responsible for the course of my life?
In the end, I think it comes down to this: I can choose to believe that Iï¿œm responsible for what happens to me, or I can choose to believe that I am not. But I donï¿œt get to make that decision selectively. That is, if Iï¿œm responsible for my victories, then surely I am also responsible for my failures. Likewise, if it is cruel Fate which keeps me from meeting a goal today, then it is capricious Chance, rather than my own virtue, that allows me to meet the goal tomorrow. So the real question isnï¿œt so much about the sort of picture I want to paint, but whether I am in fact the painter at all.
5/29/04
