It is not easy to allow others their own path. We think that if we know what to do, or how to perform a particular task, we must act on this knowledge. Interestingly, our particular knowledge may not be what is needed at the time; it may also be inaccurate. Righteousness leads to a level of struggle that often far exceeds the energy expended for action.

It is possible to learn this lesson, little by little. Once learned, it is self-evident and simple to implement, though not easy. All that is required is willingness and discernment. This is a lesson I have taken my sweet time to assimilate. I have not mastered it yet, far from that, but I think I have arrived at a time in my life when the choice between struggle and flow is clearer. I simply do not have the energy to be as stubborn as I used to be anymore.

I learned this at work. Until recently, I felt an irresistible urge to contribute to any and all tasks I felt inspired to tackle. If someone seemed uncomfortable with a particular project for which I had previous experience, I would simply move in as though it was a perfectly logical thing to do. I did not mean to take over or steal the show; I honestly believed I was helping. In a matter of hours, however, I felt drained and though colleagues kindly made way, I could sense their discomfort. It does not help anyone not to allow others their own struggles and discoveries.

This behavior puzzled me for many years. It puzzled me because, as a rather territorial person, you might think I would understand and respect other people’s boundaries. I simply did not look at it from the proper angle. I thought that stepping back would demonstrate a lack of desire to assist and contribute. I did not get that making room for others can be the most logical and respectful contribution. In fact, I suspect that many wondered whether I was questioning their abilities. How else could they interpret my actions?

I felt drained, but not because of all my hard work and dedication. What drained me was the futility of my actions. Hard work cannot be fulfilling when it is not work that is yours to do. For the longest time, I did not know how to change my behavior, until I decided that I did not need to find something else to do, or a particular way to stop it. I only needed to stop, over and over, much like letting go of an addiction overnight because there is simply no other way to ever let go.

What a relief, for everybody. All struggles cloud our judgment and make us useless to others and blind to simple delights. When we have to be right, when we have to jump in just because we know how and when we have to come up with a solution just because there does not seem to be one within reach in that instant, we also create an ongoing internal cacophony of questioning and justification. We end the day drained, as we might after a long, poorly organized and barely informative conference, hoping we had not signed up for such a futile experience and stayed home to read a good book instead. There is a way to make it clear that we are available to assist others without stepping on their heads to announce it.

As I write this, I see a mental image of a classroom. The teacher just presented the class with a question and the same few students as usual raise their hands in earnest, hoping to be selected first. What motivates them is not so much the need to shine as the fear of disappearing, never having had a valuable impact. Every action, every response, every solution and assistance we offer is a statement of our existence and our availability to others. There is a center of being that, when we take note of it, reminds us to be as servants, patiently ready to serve, but never imposing.

Slainte!