When responsibility becomes a burden

Usually having a sense of responsibility is a good thing. It gives a vagrant mind a path to follow. But there are people who have never had a wandering mind; they have always felt an intrinsic sense of responsibility towards what they do. It is, strictly, not a responsibility that they feel. They need not be reminded of their “responsibility”. They have such passion for their work that they truly love it. The word responsibility defiles that passion and love. Using it makes something which may be almost holy seem like a mere job one does to keep life ticking along. But there are conditions which dilute that passion and reduce it to a set of responsibilities that eventually become a burden.

When the circumstances of life bring such a man a calamity which uproots his entire life, something similar can happen. Even if he is resolute enough to withstand the tumultuous and torrid times, he may still lose his direction, and with that his passion for life. His life demands that you make a living. More importantly, this man demands of himself that he make a living, that he earn his own bread, that he may never be forced to beg at another’s feet for compassion. He is too proud to be irresponsible. But his entire being is revolted by this charade that he undertakes. He cannot truly care for what he does. He has tried to live like an ordinary man, trying not to be passionate. But he cannot, that’s not him. When times become testing and his sense of responsibility is stretched, he becomes sullen, morose. He begins to hate life. Then he realises that his responsibility has become a burden. Should he reject this way of life and do something else? But what would he do? Where is his passion? That question leaves him drained. And he quits for the day, having had too many of these tortuous sessions with himself. Unfortunately, the unresolved question will rear its hideous head again.