To My Magnificent Fellow Life Travelers:
Ever since Adam and Eve were first given occupancy of the Garden of Eden, humans have complained, grumbled, blamed others, and avoided taking responsibility for their own actions. Throughout the ensuing eons, nothing has changed. “It’s someone else’s fault” has become such a common diatribe today that it would seem qualified to become the world’s anthem.
From our highest leaders to those who have the least, blaming others for our shortcomings has always been embraced by some as an acceptable substitute for the acceptance of self-responsibility. Although universally, nobody likes a whiner, the exception always seems to be when the whiner is us. Nurturing and perpetuating this type of attitude is fraught with danger not only for us individually, but for society in general. The following tale is a great illustration of this point:
One morning a well-known thief with a splint on his leg hobbled into a courtroom and approached the bench.
“Your Honor,” he began, bowing as best he could, “I have a complaint. Yesterday, I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when I noticed a house with a window that was clearly unlocked. Now, who could pass by an invitation like that? Of course I had to investigate. I climbed over the fence, made my way through the yard, and opened the window. But I was only halfway through to the inside when, lo and behold, the windowsill gave way. I tumbled to the ground and, as you can plainly see, I broke my leg. Now I demand justice!”
The judge nodded, stroked his beard, and ordered the owner of the house to be summoned at once.
“Now see here,” the judge shouted when the owner was dragged to the bench, “your window broke this man’s leg as he tried to enter your house. Just what makes you think you can expose the public to such a dangerous and faulty window?”
The poor homeowner was shaking as he had never stood before a judge in his life, and he was frightened out of his wits. He searched his brain for an answer.
“Your Honor,” he pleaded, “it’s not my fault. I paid the carpenter good money to build my window. He should have built it so that it wouldn’t fall apart.”
“Your right! Bailiff, bring me the carpenter!” the judge roared from the bench.
The bailiff rounded up the carpenter.
“How dare you build a window that would break a man’s leg!” the judge thundered. “What’s wrong with you?”
The carpenter trembled and shifted from foot to foot.
“Your Honor,” he faltered, “perhaps I did not build the window quite as well as I should. But it wasn’t my fault. The truth is, I was feeling ill the day I nailed it together. I had eaten a pie from the baker’s shop, and it upset my stomach.”
The judge slammed down his fist.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he promised. “Bring me the baker!”
The baker found himself dragged into court.
“I hear you’re baking bad pies,” the judge said. “The carpenter says you sold him a pie which made him sick, which made his window bad, which broke this man’s leg.”
The baker shook his head.
“I clearly remember the day I sold him the pie,” he responded. “It’s true, Your Honor, that perhaps the pie was only half-baked. Perhaps I put in a pinch too much of this, or a smidgen too much of that. But that’s because, when I was making it, a beautiful woman came into my bakery to buy pastries. And you should have seen the dress she had on! I’ve never seen such a dress–they shouldn’t be allowed to wear them like that in public! So, of course, Your Honor, I may not have paid quite enough attention to my pies.”
“We’ll see about this!” shouted the judge. “Find that woman!”
The woman was located. The judge explained to her how she had broken the man’s leg.
“But, Your Honor,” she protested, “as the baker himself admitted, the dress caught his eye, not me. The dressmaker is the one to blame.”
“Arrest the dressmaker!” the judge ordered.
So, the dressmaker was hauled before the bench.
“What do you mean by corrupting the public this way?” the judge demanded. “Your dress has made this woman turn this baker’s head, which made his pies bad, which made the carpenter ill, which made this man’s window frame that the carpenter was building bad, which broke this poor other man’s leg. What do you have to say for yourself.”
But the dressmaker was not a speechmaker. He stammered and stuttered and could think of nothing to say. The judge ordered him hanged.
Then, the bailiff looked the condemned man up and down.
“He’s a big one, Your Honor,” he suggested. “I’m afraid he’ll be too tall for our gallows. His feet will just land on the ground.”
“So, find a shorter dressmaker, and hang him instead!” the frustrated judge stormed. “Someone must pay, after all.”
Then he ordered the woman to wear something else, and the baker to pay attention to his pies, and the carpenter to fix the window, and the owner to keep it locked.
But a lock is nothing to a thief. As soon as his leg healed, the plaintiff went back to the house, and knowing the window was safe now, broke in and took whatever he wanted.
(Source: The Moral Compass by William J. Bennett)
The victim mindset produces a delusion of fault and blame that blinds you from the simple truth of cause and effect. – Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience
Have an AWE-full Weekend!
William “Bill” Bacque