Mature people take responsibility for their actions. If you find yourself scowling through your days, finding fault wherever you look, or unable to crack your foul mood, then consider the source. It’s unlikely that everything, everyone, everywhere really is awful.
Maybe you need to take a good look at what age you’re stuck in. When you grow up, even a little, you accept more responsibility for making your life look the way you want it to.
Ask yourself who you want to be, then audition for the part.
Aim to be mature beyond your years. Practice acting like the person you wish you could become. Pick a role model – from real life, a book, or a movie – who’s breath-takingly brilliant at doing what you wish you could do and try to channel them when you need to, even if the idea of doing so makes you feel a bit silly.
Master yourself. Measure maturity by response ability.
Incompetent fools and cads abound – no doubt. Resist the temptation to join them, to take the bait, or even to teach them a lesson. Responsibility – response ability – requires clarity about what stuff belongs to the cads and what stuff belongs to you. When you let them be, you let yourself become. You turn the focus inward and grow yourself up.
Don’t act your age. Age your act.
{ PEP TALKS deliver a bracing blast of Grace }
Flickr photo: Climbing?, by ktylerconk
Related reading: Pep Talk | Ditch the Chasm, Interview | Carrie McCarthy
7 Comments
Absolutely!
My college major was tech theater and as part of that I stage managed almost every show the dept mounted.
Traditionally, the SM is the last one to leave, responsible for shutting down, locking up, etc. That doesn’t happen until the director has given the actors his notes on their performance in that day’s (or night’s) rehearsal. I got so bleeping tired of actors arguing “but I didn’t cross there” or “I didn’t say the line that way” or variations on those themes. You did or it wouldn’t be in the director’s notes. Sigh.
Just admit you did it, listen to the director, change what you’re doing, I wanted to scream at them.
Then I moved into the work-world. Same thing, different costumes, sets.
Just accept and acknowledge that you made an err and let the rest of us get on with our lives — or with fixing your mistake.
Hum. Guess you hit a sore point here Grace, LOL!
P.S. I also worked for years for criminal defense attorneys. How often I wanted just *one* accused to say: yep, I did it.
Never happened.
You’re making me laugh, Jo. I wonder if HSPs’ finely-tuned senses of responsibility and empathy (at least I think that’s true) make us also more sensitive to this issue.
I hadn’t thought of that but I bet you’re right.
One huge benefit for me of reading your blog is learning just how much of what/who I am is because I’m an HSP. I am so grateful for the lessons!
Thank you! That’s just the kind of “community” I hope to foster – the “you are definitely not alone” kind.
And your comments are a continual source of pleasure, humour, and great insights. Thank you.
Love, love, love the “response ability.”
Dear Grace:
Thanks again for such a wonderful turn of phrase that has a lasting impact. Simple and yet powerful.
I have found myself repeating “response ability” on numerous occasions since I read this posting. This has helped to trigger some wonderful ah ha moments and learning opportunities. I feel that my ability to respond is improving as a result.
Thank you once again Grace for your divine gift of phrasing.
P.S. Ditto for what you and Jo mentioned about the learning and sense of community.
Believe it or not, Dorothy, I find that the comment I want to respond to you with is … thanks for the reminder. Funny, eh? I sometimes feel as though I’m simply the vessel these bon mots pass through on their way to my readers, so I, too, need to be reminded of what I wrote.
Maybe the thing to do is to convince my husband to tattoo the words “response ability” onto his forehead. It’d keep the info right where I need to see it!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Dorothy.