Ownership

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who refuse to take responsibility for their own actions. Lately, this seems to be almost everyone. KFed got all of the underwear as part of the divorce settlement. Hot coffee is always sneaking up on laps. The attitude of “not my fault” seems to have infected our society; no one is personally responsibly for anything anymore. Since mistakes always belong to someone else, none of us are ever wrong. This is most obvious (and most maddening) in politicians, all of whom seem to refuse to admit any mistakes. Of course we made them this way, our society demands a “decider” who won’t back down. While I often find myself wishing for a leader who can admit that mistakes were made (we know everyone makes mistakes, never admitting any just proves that you’re a liar) we are not a forgiving culture. Today, apologizing almost always results in being fired.

I am no hypocrite (at least not in this instance I did almost buy leggings last week…next I’ll be claiming formal shorts are cute. Baa.). I try not to expect others to do things that I am not at least trying to accomplish myself. I own my mistakes. When something has gone wrong in my life I am quick to ask what I did to cause it, what I could have done to avoid it and what can now be done to fix it. This is usually a good thing. Owning my problems gives me a feeling of control and pro-actively searching for a solution usually expedites finding one. But, realistically, I cannot be fully responsible for all of the pain in my life and I cannot fix everything. Other people and bad luck should occasionally be blamed for their own mistakes and the cruelty of happenstance.

I suspect it might be easier to acknowledge that I cannot control everything if I believed in some higher power. If a malicious God were out to get me I could be mad at him. If a benevolent deity were in charge I could assume that the pain I feel today is part of some grand plan that will bring unknowable happiness someday in the future. Additionally this would allow me to be less annoyed with the rest of humanity. An evil force would certainly be the best explanation for Applebees (no steak is improved by a thick coating of cheese whiz. there is no such thing as riblettes.).

Perhaps I would have accepted my lack of control years ago if I hadn’t lead such a charmed life. Thus far I have been able to control most things so that I’ve only had to beat myself up over a few minor details. My life is still pretty cushy but the minor details are bothering me more. It’s the same issues coming up over and over again and eventually they wear a girl down. I think if I could stop feeling responsible for every aspect of my life I could learn to be happier with myself.