Taking responsibility… how much is ours… how much can we hold… and how do we know?

I like to take responsibility for things. Yes. It’s just the way I am. And it’s only recently that I’ve realized that I do so.

It doesn’t sound like a bad thing. No, it sounds responsible and reeks of all things good and honorable. But is it truly so? Has it been good for me?

Truth be told - at this point in my life, it sounds just plain exhausting. I feel exhausted at the mere thought. So then, can I just take off, buy that boat and leave life behind and sail into the horizon?  (I’m thinking of a short story by Daphne du Maurier, “Adieu Sagesse” (goodbye wisdom). I loved the title enough to remember it – and if vague memory serves right, it was a humorous story about how it’s never too late to fulfill your dream - an older man who lets go of responsibility and expectations, and buys a boat or something like that).

I know that won’t work for me. For I’ll keep thinking of people and unfulfilled responsibilities I left behind. Yes. The sail into the sunset will probably involve me pacing the decks. Just great. I can’t even think of a hypothetical sailing into the sunset, without ruining it. Sigh…  

I recently saw a dietician. The last time I saw her was between surgeries (when I was much better) and she was not happy to see the steps backwards that I seemed to have taken. “What do the doctors say?” “What are they doing? What is the prognosis?” She had a stream of questions for me.

I muttered things like – they’ve tried stuff, they’ve just asked me to stay on the antibiotics till whenever… That led to a gasp from her. And finally, she calmly said, “It seems like they’re just letting you be. You should ask them for better ideas”. I could see she was sad and frustrated and had my best interest. But I also felt that the doctors had done their bit and now it was my responsibility to figure out how to feel better.

But her words got me thinking. She believed it was not my sole responsibility to figure out how to be better. That I shouldn’t be trying one thing after another (again) – alternate treatments, diets, etc etc… I told her I didn’t think I would, for I simply don’t have much fight in me anymore.

Yet, I thought to myself, I will. For I believe it is entirely my responsibility.

I suppose I feel responsible for the things that happen to me. Some time back, I saw my doctor when things worsened. I could pinpoint a weekend after which things had gone south. It had been a busy weekend and I was convinced I had done something wrong. I badgered the poor man into helping me figure out what I had done wrong – too much activity…a little alcohol…Diet… everything else I could have possibly done wrong. My doctor finally joked, “It’s all your fault…” For the first time, I saw some humor in the situation, but I only went on to badger him with more questions… sigh… it’s the dog with the bone all over again – remember the first blog? Sigh…

Now you see how I wouldn’t be able to set sail in that boat? Even if my behavior has a whiff of “Adieu Sagesse” in general?

Sure, taking responsibility is a great thing. But how much is ours… how much can we hold… and how do we know?

It exists in other areas – relationships, parenting, projects, career… How much responsibility is ours? Who decides? How do we determine? How do we know at what point to let go?

By taking more responsibility than we should, are we actually doing a disservice to others? Are we preventing a better situation to arise by trying too much? Trying too hard?

Just where is that fine line of balance and who the heck are the people who get it – and how the heck do they get it? And why the heck can’t I??? Hrrmmphh…