Yo u A re N o t i n C h a rg e
Sorry if this comes as a shock, but you’re not in charge, no
matter how much you want to be, no matter how much you
think you are, no matter how much you deserve to be. If you
are not in charge, it doesn’t mean anybody else is either. We
may all be on the same runaway train with no driver or there
may indeed be a driver. (The driver may be insane, drunk, or
asleep, but that’s another thing entirely.)
Once you accept that you’re not in charge, you can let go of so
much stuff it’s very liberating. Instead of complaining, “Why
isn’t it like this?” you can accept it isn’t and let it go. Instead of
metaphorically bashing your head against a metaphoric brick
wall, you can walk away whistling with your hands in your
pockets—you are, after all, not in charge and therefore not
responsible.
Once you get your head around the wonderful concept that
you are here to enjoy and not here to run things, then you are
free to sit in the sunshine a bit more often, take time off.
Look, stuff happens. Good stuff and bad stuff. There may or
there may not be a driver. You can blame the driver if you
want. You can accept that if there isn’t a driver, the journey
will sometimes be scary, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes
boring, sometimes beautiful. (Actually, whether there is or
isn’t a driver, the same holds true.) We have to have both the
good stuff and the bad stuff. That’s a fact. If you or I were in
charge, we’d probably interfere too much and get rid of most
of the bad stuff and the human race would die out ever so
quickly due to stagnation, lack of challenge, lack of motiva-
tion, and lack of excitement. It is, after all, the bad stuff that