O for Obligation

Obligation has been on my mind recently.  The word is defined as: “binding promise, contract, sense of duty.”  Okay, the binding promise I get – as in a marriage vow, or agreeing to care for a friend’s house plant while she’s away.  And contract – rental contract, employment contract, pretty straight forward.  The one that trips me up is “sense of duty.”  Who or what defines what is my duty?  And how do I sense it?  

A friend and I had similar experiences a couple of weeks ago.  In a group, no one was quick to volunteer, eyes turned toward us and before we knew it – wham bang add another obligation to our to-do list.

You see, I was raised in the Midwest in a family where “not possible” was blasphemy.  My mother knew every word of Edgar Guest’s “It Couldn’t Be Done” and we grew up believing that if “we started to sing as we tackled the thing that couldn’t be done, we would do it.”  So you could say it’s in my DNA to take up what others deem undoable.  And, often it works, and the thing is done and it feels good.  But at what cost?  Was it necessary?  Was it worth my time and effort?  If no one else valued it enough to make it a priority, why did I?   

Obligation stems from the Latin obligatio – that ligatio part is also the root word of ligature – tying or binding up.  So when we take on an obligation, we are binding ourselves to some purpose or outcome. Think of a small backpack that you carry daily – each obligation is a stone that you add to that backpack.  We all need our backpacks – but we also need to pack carefully.  Life without obligations, without any bonding to others and with no shared outcomes, would be just as oppressive to our humanity.  But an overloaded pack can be downright onerous.

Once I coached a senior leader who was overwhelmed with his obligations.  So we made a list and looked at all the commitments he had, many of which no longer added any value to his life and were no longer connected to his goals or priorities.  While it might be a real ego booster to be asked to sit on committees and boards or head special projects, these can become heavy stones in our packs.  Over time, we become so used to the backbreaking weight that we forget it’s our pack and so we trudge on, often feeling powerless, resentful or constantly overwhelmed.  The good news is that we have the power to stop, take a look at the load we are carrying, and do some unbinding where necessary. 

We walk on feeling lighter.  And who knows?  The next traveler along the road might be looking for just that stone we’ve left behind.