A weekly thought for leaders with the courage to introspect.
In addition, the product is also used for personal hygiene purposes
I went to pick up my new passport at the town hall.
Behind the counter sat a friendly woman whom I recognized from previous documents of my existence.
It was busy. Hot. Noisy.
The waiting room groaned with whining toddlers, wayward teenagers, wandering elderly people, ringing telephones and clatter of keys.
And no one had their things in order.
No proper documents. No proof of address. No identification.
But a lot of hassle.
The lady behind the counter remained calm. Friendly. She did her job.
No rush. No stress.
I stood in line, neatly prepared.
And the longer I waited, the more grumpy I became.
Why did she pay so much attention to people who didn't have their affairs in order?
Why didn't she just cut the bullshit off?
I had everything with me. So I thought: I deserved priority.
And then โ somewhere between irritation and rebelliousness I realized something:
I had no control over this situation.
And more importantly, I couldn't have any control.
Those are two different things.
So I let it go.
Not the situation. Not the line. Not the passport.
But the urge for control.
And as always happens, everything became simpler.
Not faster, not cooler, not quieter, but lighter.
There I was, in a well-organized country, where I was allowed to simply pick up a travel document.
And I thought: things aren't that bad here.
We all want control.
We want to direct, accelerate, enforce, solve.
And when that doesnโt work, we get frustrated. Angry. Unreasonable.
But that is rarely helpful.
The truth? Control is often an illusion.
A smokescreen for our impatience.
Some things you can arrange:
Your bookkeeping. Your dog. Maybe your agenda.
But life itself?
Not that often.
If you have no control over something, and cannot have any control over it
then stop craving control.
Because wishing it to be different doesn't make it different.
The lady behind the counter also took time for me.
She filled in, stamped, made a joke, flirted with a colleague.
And before I knew it, we were playing for fifteen minutes together.
With humor. Humanity. Peace.
Just what I needed.
The space between the words is where insight arises.
Until next week when our thoughts touch again.
Hans Ruinemans, Boardroom Monk โฏ๏ธ