Because you know that what you end up doing in a dream could have been something you would have done in reality, nothing comes better than waking just as you have just crashed a boat or set a forest alight and feeling the sweet relief that you are not responsible for the ghastly mess. Just to make sure, though, you will pinch yourself twice.
Responsibility marks us as human. Animals can get away with murder: killing ten sheep or devastating a crop is their nature: humans do not see them guilty of a moral wrong; neither would the animal, not having any awareness of how these actions enraged the farmer. But we know that our actions affect not only ourselves but others also. With the privilege of having a unique life comes the fact that you will be seen as responsible for it. Will this “responsible” be synonymous with trustworthy and mature? Or will it come framed by the word “held”, signifying failure and guilt?
Taking responsibility means acknowledging your fears and limitations, assessing your strengths and abilities and being courageous. It is the means whereby we establish ourselves as individuals; and here human nature shows its hand: if things go well, we are all too ready to claim some responsibility; if things go badly, we are all too ready to distance ourselves from it. Both tendencies illustrate how an awareness of responsibility is rooted in our desire for recognition as an individual.
Every action has responsibility attached to it. Acknowledging this means that, before embarking on your path, you should assess the measure of your responsibility. Take a swing, for example: how long will the swing you put up last? One answer: till it breaks, child thumps ground, coccyx cracks and agony screams. Another answer: as long as the maker maintains it, taking responsibility to check that it is secure until, one day, he takes it down. The latter shows a true assessment of the situation of risk which was created and the responsibility attached with this. Taking ownership of something, be it a swing or a gathering, means understanding the importance of one’s agency not only in its creation but also its outcomes.
Awaking after a nightmare of responsibility brings sweet relief because everyone knows that, in reality, picking up the pieces for which you are responsible is a horrible experience. But within the domain of responsibility there are degrees of culpability. Take a case of forgetfulness: there is a minor plumbing problem, a washer needs replacing. You turn the water mains off and, to make the job move on quickly, open most of the taps in the house so that water in the system can drain away and allow for the repair to be done. What you forgot, though, is that you put the plug in the bath so that, being the responsible person you are, the water would not run to waste. And what you also forgot was to close the taps once the water had run from the system. Of course it was unfortunate that you happened to go out ten minutes after the job had been completed and the mains had been turned back on, which is why, returning hours later, instead of Doggy leaping to greet you, it was Soggy. Soggy carpets, soggy floors, soggy rooms.
As catastrophic and costly as such an accident can be through forgetfulness and a lack of foresight, it carries none of the shame and guilt which arise when negligence or a habit of procrastination results in a tragedy. Yes, the tyres on the car are smooth and needing to be replaced, but not right now… . And yes, the weather might have been terrible when the car slid out of control, overturned and killed a member of the family, but you know that, had you replaced the tyres this might not have happened. There have been many who, knowing they were responsible for a bad happening, have descended into depression and worse: having individual agency in this world can lead to fulfilment or anguish.
Clever people avoid the negative connotation of responsibility. They achieve this by anticipating problems and thinking creatively. I remember visiting a man who lived down the street and had, for the five years I had lived there, been working on what was obviously set to be an ocean-going yacht of impressive size. During the course of our conversation he admitted that he had begun the yacht without thought of exactly how he would move it to the ocean once it had been completed, but as he built it he worked out how he would manage the final passage from the back garden to the waiting berth and, without compromising his design, had tailored the craft with this in mind. Had he not done this, one can imagine how some municipal and traffic officials might have relished informing him of all the hoops of responsibility he would have to jump through in order to have the craft move from its suburban home to the yacht basin. He, though, had the satisfaction of not having fallen foul of all the regulations and then having to fork out large sums of money to move this or that out of the way.
So should the tree from which I suspend a swing in my garden bear the sign: “Warning: the owner of this property is indemnified from all responsibility for any accident.”? It is my right to nail it there, but it is also in my ability to exercise foresight and care in what I have designed. With the sign present, a note of negativity is sounded: some swings are untrustworthy; this may be one of them. With the sign absent, there is nothing to dampen the carefree spirit which swings welcome. For this to happen, though, responsibility needs to have been properly exercised and ownership fully taken.
Of all the virtues, I admire courage most. Of all the vices, I despise cowardice most. There is sometimes rather a fine line between ‘courage’ and ‘foolhardiness’: I think I have sometimes crossed that line – but even then, you can redeem yourself with accepting the unhappy outcome courageously, seeking neither to excuse yourself nor to avoid the often painful recognition that ‘you did this; you own it.’
And in so doing, you find you have been gifted with forgiveness, and rewarded with a measure of wisdom. These will be a comfort to you in your old age, and sad regret will not be able to claim you.
I knew even as a young man that when I listened to Edith Piaf singing ‘Non, je ne regrette rien,’ and the short hairs on the back of my neck stood up, I would one day have to expropriate this as my theme song!
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien, qu’on m’a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m’est bien égal
Thanks for the comment. What I feel is not said is how does that forgiveness flow from the recognition of one’s being responsible for the choice and consequence of one’s actions? Does a stoic feel forgiveness? I doubt this, so how is the acceptance of what happens marked by forgiveness for such a person? I imagine there is a type of pride in the “dying without crying” attitude which stoical attitudes may foster. To feel forgiveness implies that there is a God whose will one has gone against and in whom one believes resides the goodness through which one knows that what has been done is wrong. Forgiveness means believing that this God’s goodness consists of mercy, too, and though wrong has been done, it is not such that will cause an eternal black mark against one’s name. For this to be the case, it means that goodness overcomes wrong and can be forgiven because goodness has the eternal victory. The proof of this victory is that death, the ultimate punisher of wrong, has been overcome by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from death. This and his ministry of love on earth is where I find faith in being forgiven.