I wrote Better at War the other day and made reference to my circles of authority, responsibility and concern – I actually made reference to this post which at that time I had not done – so here it is!

It all came about as I am a bit sick of being responsible for things I have not authority over, but mainly I am worried about my level of concern for those same things.

Often the size of my ‘circles’ of authority, responsibility and concern are something that is thrust upon me and not something I choose.  Well, I asked myself a while ago, why can’t I choose?

A few years ago I drew the below chart (the top figure) to explain how I felt at work, and often felt about my private life, and even sometimes about the world!

I decided to redraw my chart (the bottom figure) to align with how my life should be in all aspects. The thing is, that my circle of concern grows to exponential proportions on some days and shrinks to a dot on others. I think this is okay so long as my circles of authority and responsibility stay aligned.

I also think accepting responsibility is different to having it thrust upon you. Often when this happens it feels like someone is looking for a ‘fall guy’.  I also think that under no circumstance should you accept any responsibility for anything you don’t have authority over.

All this sounds pretty mandatory and stinks of complete abrogation of responsibility for what might be happening in my life, my community, my country and in fact my world.

But, and there is a big BUT here, I found that by not worrying so much about the things I wasn’t responsible for, or had authority over, my life got a whole lot less complicated; well in my head anyway.

I know we are supposed to look after those that can’t look after themselves as I stated as being one of the attributes of a man in my post What is being a Man; but we also have to look after ourselves a bit as well.  You cant help somebody else if you can’t help yourself.  I also found that by worrying less my whole outlook on things got a bit…. calmer.

I wrote about this feeling of responsibility and the regret for not being able to fix some of the things that are bad in our world in Better a Racist and Better Hatred or Hated but reckon these feelings are often thrust upon us, often by ourselves.  I have no doubt that the media are responsible for a great deal of this 21st Century guilt and our need as the ‘first world’ to fix everyone else’s problems.  I suppose this ‘first world guilt’ is like being a parent, you want to fix everything for your kids, and like a parent, it takes a while to realise you can’t.  This realisation also has to stop us, even if it’s only in our heads, to stop being a global parent.

I am not advocating ‘giving up’ however I am advocating looking at it from a different perspective.  Perhaps even like in the parent, child analogy above.  Being concerned about everything, and trying to control everything is where you can lose yourself.  I think this means that you let go of anger, which often comes through perceived helplessness and start to think along the lines of, I will do what I can, with what I have and that is, really all I can do.  Perhaps most of the time that is enough.  Bearing in mind that this is very different for everyone of us.  Some of us on our good days can’t do very much and others, who always seem to have good days, choose not to.  Again it is about choice.

Also, concern is not action.  I can be concerned about something as much as I want to, irrespective on my ability to change it, however, this concern is wasted if I am not concerned enough to actually do something about it.  To a certain extent this then just becomes whinging and having a bitch at the pub about how everything is so fucked and why doesn’t somebody do something about it – hey, it’s your shout!

Concern also often manifests itself in the form of control.  If we are concerned about something we often feel as above, helpless, or in some instances where we have some influence we must gain control in an attempt to pacify our concern.  Unfortunately this can then become the driving force of our interactions with everyone in that to circumvent concern we must always have control.  I think this is how the disease of ‘micro-management’ is caught.  Control to immunise ourselves against concern.  This is most definitely the case in the parent trap of attempting to fix things for our kids before they even happen.  I think the only good that comes from that is that we get a lot of people (and our kids) who stop being concerned about anything and wait for it to be fixed by the magic someone.

I suppose the best analogy of being concerned within your authority and responsibility is that a while ago I drew it to the attention of someone at work that something could go horribly wrong with a project they were working on.  They came and saw me (as I was sure I had told them about my concerns in writing) and said “What are we going to do about this”.  My reply was that I had already done it.  There was this moment where I could see the bewilderment in their face.  I had the above chart on my office wall and pointed it out to them.  The look of bewilderment continued.  I said I was concerned about what was happening and as a matter of professional courtesy drew it to their attention (which I didn’t have to) and for me, sorry, but that was it from me.  They left, I have no doubt a bit disappointed and bewildered that I was not going to fix their problem.   To a certain extent I did feel the need to step in and fix things, but realised that by doing that I was thrusting the ‘fall guy’ position on myself and catching a good dose of ‘micro-management’.

So here I am, concerned to the point of my authority and accepting no responsibility beyond that.  It definitely feels calmer, but does it feel as fulfilling as always striving to make the world a better place.  Well in today speak “Yes, No, but…..”

I suspect the guilt of not doing something has to be tolerated so that when we really have to do something we don’t have to do everything.

I think it is a part of us to want to make the world a better place.  I also think we sometimes just get a bit lost in the enormity of it all and with most things when we feel as if something it too hard, we do nothing.

I don’t think it is about changing the things we can change and accepting the things we cannot, or even knowing the difference.  I think the wisdom is in never giving up hope and that like the six-percenters, things will change when it is the right time.

All we have to do is each day is be a little bit better at being better, and keep our circles aligned.

I have been writing a few posts lately and find that sometimes I am not too sure if I have already written about something.  I suppose if I use the theory in my post Better than 10% then there is not too much new in the world and repeating myself is more the norm than a problems with old age memory loss.

Often a post takes me more time in linking it to other posts than it does in the actual writing.

I was thinking about all this linking and realised just about everything in our lives in linked in one way or another.

It also got me to thinking about the old adage regarding the ‘chain-of-evidence’.  For some reason we always referred to it as a chain.  The problem with this is that if one link is broken then the chain is broken.  I always thought that this was wrong.  I believed that the evidence was more like a rope.  A rope is made up of many strands and that if one strand broke then, so long as not too many break, the rope can still hold the load.  I think the chain idea is perhaps one full of pedantic excuses to avoid taking a chance in putting on too much strain.  In the Policing world of course this translates into filed reports and discontinued prosecutions due to the focus on one link in a chain instead of the entire rope.

This link and chain idea occurred to me when I was thinking about my circle of friends and the interconnection between them.  I think we have all gone to a party of a friend when it appears that we don’t know anyone there, or have a connection with them, other than the host.  This is either a time to get a fictitious call from the baby sitter or take a chance at experiencing your hosts ‘links’.  Often it is that we find at least one person or maybe a few who you have connections to other than via your host.  The ‘Adelaide is Small’ or ‘Six degrees of separation’ comments pepper the conversation surrounding your new found connection.

I always wondered about the six degrees of separation theory and after a bit of ‘Google Research’ and Wikipedia ‘confirmed fact’ found the theory that we are all connected by no more that six personal associations is reasonably valid.  Obviously with the advent of Facebook and other social and business connection sites that separation could be less.  Facebook recently did a study reported on Wikipedia that connections via Facebook have an average separation of 4.74 degrees.  In the modern world our separation from each other has basically come down by one; of course .74 of a person means that each of us has to have 4 connections and the final connection by a really small person!  Although this is pretty impressive I would recommend that you take into account your teenagers ‘friends’ list which may go into the thousands – of course all good, true and close friends!

It dawned on me that all my links in my posts, although annoying to format, were a drop in the ocean compared to the links in my life.  Previously in my post  Better with Friends I described who I allowed to live in my head because they ‘paid rent’ or in other words added to my life in some positive way.   But, the links in my life do actually have a mind of their own even if I don’t let them live in my mind.

So?

If we each have so many connections and we are all so closely connected, how come, most of the time it feels like we aren’t.  Being with other people can feel like one of the most disconnected experiences in modern society.  Do you ever walk down the street looking through other people and being looked through, avoiding eye contact, searching the faces in the crowd for a smile, scared of contact being seen as inappropriate or menacing  or weird or ‘awkward.’  How is such a ‘connected’ world with only 4.74 degrees of separation sometimes seem like we are all so separated and even osolated from each other.

I mentioned in my post  Better People I Didn’t Know about the death of Robin Williams and that we often have connections with people and didn’t even realise it until they are gone.  I don’t think this means we have to become stalkers or the friend (we know the one) who appears to be unable to function without a crowd, but, I do think that we have to attempted to nurture our links and try and make connections meaningful and not just the occasional “Like” on a picture of last nights dinner.

Considering the above I thought I will let Robin Williams have the last say.

No I didn’t spell patients wrong, I am talking about being a hospital patient.  Well today I am.  I think I am about to write this post in more than one part, the before and after  operation. (I hope there is an after!)  It is nothing spectacular I am getting done, just routine getting old maintenance. I have decided that when I retire in the next couple of years I am going to be the fittest and healthiest I have been in my life; I intend on being retired for a long, long time!  Plus, I don’t want to be one of those old people who only ever talk about their illness and ailments – I once heard that the health issues of the elderly are often serious, but rarely interesting.  I don’t want to be boring, so I am going to be healthy. It is a minor hernia operation, but I have told people that is just a cover, as I am going in for a penis reduction…. Oh, groan.

In the lead up to arriving today I have completed a series of forms that required every detail of my life, in duplicate and verily witnessed.  I  posted these in prior to arrival for no doubt continuous scrutiny, copying and rubber stamping.  I presume this all must have happened, because when I arrived today the file the receptionist, or admitting nurse, had, was about 6 inches thick. I don’t feel that sick?

I’m glad I filled in all those forms as I got to repeat my name and spell it about 11 times… I got to the point where I thought I was on an episode of ‘candid camera’ or some getting punked show…. or, worse, she thought I was an imposter.  Anyway, I eventually got my wrist identification band, which then immediately had to be cut off and replaced as it didn’t have my middle name.  I assured the nurse I was the only person with that first name and last name in Australia and the other one was a musician in the USA… Did she initially think I was him, I didn’t think he was that famous.

We sat in the nice waiting room, we being my wife and I. My wife had come on the pretext of looking after me but I wanted her there to verify my identity. A short time latter a very nice lady volunteer called Kersti called out my first name, I checked my wrist band, it was me!  She then verified my surname telling me that she wasn’t allowed to call out surnames as it was a breach of privacy – although the nurses were allowed to do it volunteers weren’t.  I told Kersti that I was a bit reluctant to go with her as she wasn’t wearing Hi-Viz (see my post Better with Hi-Viz) and too my relief she immediately got on board and told me all the rules they had to follow, some of which appeared to be just to make things more difficult.

Let me transgress here for a bit. Kersti was a very attractive lady who later told us she was 70 years old. She had been a volunteer at the hospital for 6 years. She made our arrival wonderful. Volunteers…. Most of my life I have not really understood the concept. Kersti was the epitome of the concept. She was doing it to make my world, the new, perhaps often really nervous patient, a better place, to feel welcome and at ease. I am now sitting waiting for my operation, glad that I met her and feeling that little bit happier because I met her. I am glad I noticed her.

Kersti showed us around my room and then with a smile and cheerfulness that still lingers, went onto the next person who she was going to make a difference in their day – I have no doubt, all positive.

I haven’t been to hospital for a while and luckily have private insurance and am in a private hospital. My memory of when I was here a few years ago is that it didn’t look so tired. I don’t listen to the news too much about the state of our medical services, because, I am like everyone else and don’t worry until it affects me and then, I’ll tell you,  it is a bloody disgrace!  Just an observation that a lot of our ‘public’ stuff is looking a bit tired in lots of places and over made up in others. Priorities are no doubt set by the whim of some, the noise of others and the patience (the correct patience) of the rest of us.

I am still glad that I am sitting here, waiting for my operation, which was first diagnosed 8 weeks ago, with a good surgeon, and not like a mate in the public system who is still waiting for his operation 4 years later!

Funnily enough, I am not too nervous. I suppose it it like flying in a plane. We all get a bit nervous, but the odds of anything going wrong, even in today’s bad patch, are still pretty remote. Plus, as I wrote about earlier in the post Better Fathers Day it is amazing that considering the things we did as kids we have survived this long anyhow. I reckon the odds are in my favour that I will pull through.

I suppose, if all does go well, I will be a better man, at least physically anyway. I’ll let you know, hopefully.

I decided to post about Fathers Day after Father’s Day because we are not just Fathers for one day.

I often do this on people’s Birthdays by sending them the card a few days after and mentioning that now their birthday is over, I hope they had a great day but celebrating a life is everyday.  I suppose I also do it so they will remember my card and not all the cards they go on their birthday or more importantly not all the Facebook messages they go from 200 half friends: by the way if you missed my Facebook birthday message it is because I don’t send them.

I had my opinion changed a few years ago about cards and present which you can read on my post Better Experience the Presents. In line with this I got a great card from my kids on Father’s Day but didn’t quite understand the ‘Grumpy Old Man’ stubby holder and mug!!

Dad as a Teenager

Dad – always smiling

I think as Fathers we always think we could be doing a better job. I have the greatest cure for that type of thinking. I think about what I was doing as a kid and how my parents didn’t know half of what I got up to and in any case I lied, often only by omission, but a lie nevertheless. I realise that our kids are giving us the half truths all the time so as a parent they are just glad we don’t know what they are really getting up to, so being a good Dad is not finding out, I reckon. And, when you do, don’t be to harsh about it just because you never got caught when you were a kid!

After all out job is pretty simple. Keep them fed, clothed, sheltered and at school and most of all let them know they can be happy in a pretty flawed world.

I suppose being a Dad is as much about what we learned being a kid. I want to be like my Dad or I don’t want to be like my Dad, either way we learned something.

I wrote a lot about getting over, and rewriting the past in my post ‘Better at Time Machines‘ if you are interested.  One thing I do know, doesn’t matter about your past, it is how you look at today, and perhaps tomorrow that counts.  I think this is where we make the choice to be happy.

I also think that our Dads are a great influence, good or bad.

I was lucky, mine was all good.  I think the silent majority get to look back at their childhood and say it was pretty good.  I noticed the other day on Facebook a mate in his late 50s posted something about his Dad who had died when he was 21 years old – the influence of Dad’s is for life – and I think just as much if not more so after their death.

I once was attempting to explain this to my kids and did it with the following anecdote (I think I may have posted this before but I am of the age that if I tell the kids I can’t remember because I am getting old, unfortunately they believe me! – just found it in my post ‘Better Happy Posts‘ if you are interested – but here it is again anyway):

The other day I was trying to explain to the kids what were the important things in life and knowing the ‘value’ of something. I said I would be happy to have no job, no house, no possessions except the clothes I was wearing and perhaps a tooth brush in my back pocket. I would give it all away, all my ‘things’ to spend 1 minute with my Dad. I told then if I could do this, I would, with no regrets. I miss him as much today as I did all those years ago. I now attempt to honour him by living a life that would make him proud…. and sometimes when I falter, I know he would understand, forgive me and know (which is all he ever expected on any of us) I am doing my best. I love my Dad and I miss him.

I know we often try as Dads to be all things, especially attempting to teach our kids about our mistakes so they don’t repeat them.  We just have to remember for them it isn’t a repeat it is a first time discovery!  I suppose we just gotta let it happen and hope for the best – the odds are in our favour that they will make it.

Bob Kearney (see my post ‘Better with Bob‘) once said to me that he had a boring Granfather and in his old age he didn’t want to be a boring Grandfather; but, more important than being interesting was being interested.  I think that’s what our kids really only ever want anyway.

So now that Fathers Day is over and we have received all the accolades (and hopefully those of you with young kids great paintings of things that you had to have explained to you – PS keep these in the hidden kids 21 embarrassment file!) lets think about making our days as Dads count a bit more, lets be interested.

I know in being a better man, I MUST be a better Dad.