Tag: restlessness

  • The Lonely Path

    The Lonely Path

    There is comfort in being in a space unoccupied by others. The plague of clichés and the clutter of egos take up residence in crowded spaces. Blending into the crowd always threatened my sanity. Living up to an expectation set against a standard that I don’t subscribe to will always result in disappointment for the one that holds such expectation. Sadly, the fulfilment of our expectations defines the sense of significance for too many.

    A simple but defining realisation dawned on me in recent months. There is a conflict of sentiment in encouraging others to own their life. To pursue a path that is unique to what they yearn to see realised in this world places a burden on their shoulders that most are unwilling to bear. It’s much easier to talk about the change that is needed but to recede from the battlefield when the time to act arrives is even easier. Leading the charge against complacency is never a popular role to take.

    Spectators are the armchair critics of life. The back seat drivers, or the wall flowers. They observe the most, analyse the most, criticise the most, and do the least. But their time spent gathering information about everything that is wrong positions them well to be the first to point out the shortcomings of those that choose to go to battle. Through nothing more than the momentum contained in their numbers, they become the opinion makers and the advisors, much like the politicians that send everyone else’s children to fight wars that are created around boardroom tables.

    The odds are stacked against the ones that set out to make things better. Gaining critical mass for positive change amongst a mass of critics is beyond daunting. It requires a healthy dose of tenacity, resilience, and a dollop of manipulation. The populist leader however chooses to have a healthy dose of manipulation and nothing more. Offer incremental change and deliver only a fraction of it, and the history books will celebrate you for generations to come. All you need to do is give people reason to believe that they were part of a movement that made them feel better about not making progress in life, and then release them to go back into the dreary cycle of their lives.

    It’s easy to see why the path of leadership, authentic leadership is a lonely one, especially when you consider that leading does not require a vocal following. It doesn’t even require a conscious one. I once heard that the definition of leadership is to do more than is expected of you. This makes so many sincere contributors leaders despite them feeling like nothing more than burden-bearers.

    Step up to take up the slack of the slackers and automatically you take a lead role. Fill the parenting void of absent parents and you become a role model. Assume responsibility for an outcome that everyone needs but no one wishes to own, and you become a rebel. Speak out loud what you know everyone else is thinking but would never utter from fear of inheriting responsibility, and you become the abrasive protestor. The fly in the ointment, or the pain in the butt. Good intention makes no difference. The moment you choose to improve the quality of your life or the life of those around you, prepare to be judged because in stepping up, we automatically make visible those that are sitting down.

    It’s that easy to start out on the lonely path of leadership. Not pseudo-leadership that needs a title or a declaration to be established. True leadership. The one inspired by the struggle of the common man, or the aspiration of the unknown dreamer. That is the lonely path, because if everyone recognised the importance of the change that is needed, change would not be needed. Natural progression would happen without disruption. The human condition would improve as a natural consequence of commonly-held values that are actually valued. But they don’t value the values that they profess to uphold. Unless they are the designated leader, it’s not their job to care.

    So it rests on the shoulders of the restless ones among us. The ones that see the value of progress and can’t rest until it is realised. The ones that see the gaps and fill it with contributions that uplift the weary souls, or the under resourced. The ones who act, in spite of the critics and the knowledge that they will likely be damned before they are appreciated, let alone celebrated. They are the ones on that lonely path. Despite this, they are also the ones that are most likely to stop and offer a hand to the one whose lethargy finally saw them fall foul of the same system that they once coveted.

    Companionship is rare on this path. By implication of their nature, compensating for the selfish embrace of the other is simply a matter of course. Realising that your restlessness is likely to threaten rather than attract the ones that it is intended to uplift, living a life of restrained expression becomes second nature. The smile that never reaches the eyes, or the embrace that feels comforting but is rarely reciprocated are easily overlooked in the haste that accompanies the indulgence of the distracted.

    [This is an incomplete thought process…]

  • A Brain Dump

    I’ve been struggling to focus on almost anything recently. I’ve been plagued with thoughts of ‘what next’ for a long time now. While I still have a lot of passion for what I do, my passion for doing it with the people that I do is fast fading. I’ve always managed to find avenues to express myself creatively in my work, regardless of how mundane the task at hand may seem. That hasn’t changed, but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to find the patience to convince others that there is a better way to do things.

    I’m usually the one that questions the status quo while others revere it because it is a tried and tested way to do things. When people tell me about the tried and tested ways they’re familiar with, all I hear is ‘it is my safe haven, my comfort zone, my sphere of influence, so don’t you dare try to change it!’. It’s ridiculous how people can define their worth by something they achieved or were party to several years ago and still hold on to the residual glory of it all. I despise myself when I find myself doing something in 10 steps when I can do it in 8. And then I despise myself for not being able to do it in less than 8 steps, even though everyone else around me is still content with 10 steps.

    Ok, maybe ‘despise’ is a strong word to use, but the restlessness I feel inside me is not much less than the same contempt that environmentalists feel for those that don’t recycle. I’m not lazy, but I hate to apply a certain amount of effort to something when I know that I can get away with less. This frees me up to do so much more with the energy that would otherwise have been wasted. And as the days go by, my energy levels appear to be dwindling. There is much that I should be doing that I’m not even thinking about right now. This is probably the slide into that place of lethargy that sucks the life out of us before we reach a ripe age, and as aware as I am of it, I seem to be helpless in jolting myself out of it.

    Actually, I’m not helpless. I never have been. I guess this morbidity that overshadows me right now is bringing out the dramatist in me. There is a lot that I have going for myself, but I guess sometimes the uphill drag of the ball and chain can wear us down when we least expect it. Sometimes I wish I had this go-to guru that I could refer to in my life. That’s never been the case for me, which is probably why I second-guess myself so often. I often find myself wondering if things really are as uncomplicated as I see them relative to the overbearing complexity that most people seem to invite into their lives, or am I really just missing the point because I’ve always had a somewhat skewed sense of reality?

    Recently I’ve found myself contemplating what it would have been like for me if I had a meaningful role model that I could look up to and turn to for advice each time I was faced with a life altering decision, but just as soon as the thought tugs at my sentimentality, I feel that annoying realisation surfacing again. That realisation that had it been any other way I probably would not be as effective at what I do as I am today. In a recent discussion with a friend she mentioned that her pursuit of academic studies did more than just give her the foundation on which she hopes to launch her career. She said it made her feel safe because she knew she could rely on test scores and other such outcomes that would give her the affirmation and comfort that she needed to feel like she was on the right track.

    I’ve never looked for that, and I don’t know why. But in many ways I’ve also been fortunate in not having had my thinking moulded by any institutions or scholars because I was never exposed to such structures. The downside was that it felt extremely burdensome at times, but the upside which far outweighs that is the fact that I’ve never listened to anyone else when they imposed their limitations on me. I wouldn’t quite call myself a free spirit, nor would I ever consider myself to be a rebel. In fact, I’m not sure how I would define myself if I ever found a need to, and perhaps in that I’ve found much liberation and space to breathe. I’ve always been keenly aware of the perceptions that others have of me, but somehow I don’t ever recall applying myself to gain their favour despite knowing that they found much reason to ridicule me.

    I’ve often said that the resilience that I’ve demonstrated throughout my life was never something I could honestly lay claim to. It was inherent in me for as long as I can remember. Perhaps that resilience itself was only a symptom of something more. Perhaps it is a state that is acquired when we don’t try to live up to the expectations of others, and instead maintain a singular focus on the logic and purpose that would drive us to act. Perhaps my obstinacy in not succumbing to the expectations of the social structures that I despise is in fact my strength. Perhaps it isn’t.

    This road seems to be quite weary of late, but I’m not yet ready to take the path most traveled. Even if I wanted to, it would mean that I would need to have a desire to aspire to the ideals of the group whose path I would wish to choose for myself, and such a group I have yet to meet. I’m an old soul that yearns for the wholesomeness of a simple life, but am conflicted by my need to change the world into something slightly less despicable.