An Examined Life

I assembled a power washer the other day. I made a point of reading the instructions. Oddly, unlike the number of times I put together IKEA furniture, or kids bikes at Christmas, I wasn’t left with any spare bits and pieces. Once I was done I read the ‘starting’ details and, sure enough, it fired up on the 2^nd pull.

On the other hand I took my lawnmower in for servicing. I thought something was wrong with it. Turns out my lawnmower didn’t have the feature I assumed it had. It never occurred to me to look at the manual.

I have an unconscious arrogance. I assume I can find my way around cities I have never been in before, I can second guess Swedish bookshelf designers, and I know better than Jamie whatshisname when it comes to braising lamb.

This very software program I am typing with has the ability to do so much, but I still am happy with my one of three font choices and simple cut and paste. To do more would require an online tutorial or something – who has time for that?

And there it is. My arrogance has it’s root in my impatience. I just want to get on with it – taking the time to read will only slow me down. I am not sure what all the rush is, but my logic suggests that five minutes with the manual could be much better spent – doing what exactly, I am not sure.

I also find there is a correlation between me reading manuals, and me listening to instructions from my wife. “did you remember the milk?” “right”… and back out I go. Fortunately I have the time to drive back to the grocery store, since I didn’t waste it reading those instructions for the lawnmower…..

Recently there were two teenagers at our dinner table who just two weeks prior had been floating in a lifeboat500 km off the coast of Brazil. They were among 64 who had survived after been forced to abandon their school ship before it sunk in a vicious storm.

This past weekend all the crew of the ship, and many of their families, stood on a dock in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, where the ship should have been tied up. In an eloquent speech the head of the program, Nigel McCarthy, had these words:

“… Now, each of us must climb out of lifeboat groups and back into watches.  In a lifeboat we are victims of a tragedy, we are waiting for someone to save us.  We are wondering about being saved at all.  Time to get out of the lifeboat.

In watches, we are teams who work together to change the tilt of the world.  We will tilt it towards justice, towards a knowledge of the beauty and importance of human life.  And not least the knowledge of the strength of the (crew) who were in the boats.

Watch or lifeboat, these are the choices of how we live the rest of lives.  The choice begins here today on this dock”.

The choice of that crew is the same one that each of us faces. Do we identify ourselves as ‘victims’ – enduring circumstances we believe are outside of our control, dependent on others for our safety and provision – or do we learn from our tragedies, and seek to take responsibility for our own lives?

Imagine learning that at 16 years old?

The fist slams on the boardroom table as the boss stares steely eyed at his minions. “Failure is not an option” he bellows in an attempt to motivate.

The charges all sit, hands palms down, and nod their heads obediently. All except one. That kid from accounting, the one with the smart ass comments in the break room. He’s thinking that, besides the obvious cliché, it’s the wrong advice if you want push people to greater heights.

If there’s no option to fail, then it doesn’t really matter what you do. It’s like that stupid question he read in the self help book his sister bought: ‘What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?’. Why even waste the time coming up with an answer?

Failure or the potential of, he thought to himself, is actually an integral part of any worthwhile endeavour. Risk, in whatever form, is the currency of success. The potential for consequence makes one plan, think, and pay close attention.

Nature seems to have designed things such that the greater the risk, the higher the potential for catastrophe, the sweeter the accomplishment. And, as Darwin discovered, those who don’t appropriately consider the possible cost usually find themselves with a one way ticket out of the gene pool.

The young man considered disrupting the flow of his superior’s Patton-esque rant and explaining his logic, but thought better of it. He figured the consequence of that action would far outweigh any potential reward. Sure his boss thought failure wasn’t an option, but in the case of our accounting clerk, he might just make an exception.