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At one point in his life Norrie believed that he had to decide between his bliss and his responsibilities. His bliss was playing the drums; he was a drummer for a jazz band. And, because he framed his question as an opposition (I can have my bliss OR I can be responsible), he took his drum kit apart, moved the pieces into the attic, and locked the door. I met him 30 years later and his bliss was still a prisoner in his attic.
He didn’t throw the drums away. He didn’t sell them. He kept them close by, locked in a safe place, dusty and unused, surrounded by boxes of books and clothes and the things of life that we want to keep without really knowing why; reminders of things past.
He told me about his drums because he wanted me to know that he had, at one point in his life, a passion. He wanted me to know that he was once an artist like me and that we had common ground. And, like him, it was inevitable that I lock my bliss away. Sooner or later, a man must dump his desires to take on responsibilities.
The way you frame the question determines the possibilities you see or don’t see. I’ve often wondered what Norrie’s life would have been had he not framed his bliss in opposition to his responsibilities. What if fulfilling his bliss was his responsibility?
What if being a responsible father/mother, husband/wife, boss/employee means that you have a responsibility to bring all of you, your best game, not just fragments, edited bits and pieces? What would you bring?
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