The Weight of the World

About feeling responsible all the time

When I was 7 or 8, I was devastated about the state of the planet and how society treated nature, the environment and especially animals. I tried to convince my mother to stay away from laundry softener because it wasn’t good for the water organisms. I read magazines and books looking for more ways to protect the environment. Me and some other kids from the neighbourhood tried to safe a flock of sheep we had befriended over one summer from being sold and slaughtered. Without success. I was distraught and inconsolable for weeks. It was my first brush with the feeling of powerlessness.

When I was 4 or 5 years old, I tried to make sure that my parents also won a board or dice game. I couldn’t stand seeing someone lose. It just wasn’t fair and I didn’t want anyone to be sad (I’m sure they weren’t, but you know …). In primary and secondary school, I defended everyone who was treated unfairly - against other pupils and teachers alike. I befriended the outsiders and tried to console and support anybody in need, even people who had badmouthed me.

I was the only child in my closer and wider family, everyone else was an adult by then, but it was me who tried to make sure everyone got heard and seen. I tried to ensure balance and harmony and to make sure that everyone felt well and okay. I felt it was my responsibility because I felt everyone else’s feelings. I carried the weight of other’s emotions and problems from very early on.

When I was a teenager, I didn’t think about what I wanted to do for a job, but what I thought society needed most at that time. I thought about teaching and then started to pursue social pedagogy for a while to work with people who had fallen out with society, were in a bad place or were at a rough time in life. I wanted to help society and every single person who needed it.

Feeling responsible for everything all the time, from big to small, was me from the get-go. It came from empathy, compassion, a strong sense of justice. It came from being highly sensitive (as I would say in hindsight), feeling everyone else’s feelings, including the animals’ needs and the state of the world and the planet. When I read and learned more about the world, more and more knowledge and understanding was added over time, rational aspects. The more I knew, the more I felt responsible, I had to do something about it (whatever it was on any given day). Of course I had to. Anybody else would do the same, right?

Well, you know the answer to that self-imposed question, I’m sure, and so do I. That’s not to say that I like the answer.

I didn’t end up in a social profession, but worked as a librarian and deputy head of a public library later. Here, I thought, I could tie everything together. My passion for books, my love for people of all ages - and my strong sense of responsibility for society.

The library as a social glue, as an opportunity to bring together the most diverse people of all ages and backgrounds, to empower them, to contribute to community, to give children and young people from difficult and disdvantaged backgrounds opportunities, library as a third place also for the financially less well-off (no commercial place, no compulsion to consume, but quality of stay, stimulation ...), as an educational initiative. Always fighting with local politics (after all, the library is only a voluntary service provided by the city council and people should just buy books if they want to read them, we have often heard), as well as acquiring additional funding - and convincing colleagues and superiors why certain changes were good and necessary.

I always felt responsible for friends, groups, teams, companies, organisations, mankind. And the more I realised that not everyone else around me felt and acted in the same way, the more responsible I became (or felt I had to). Because if I didn't do it, who would, and what would become of the people, the company, the town, the world?

Crazy, right? You may wonder, if this was some kind of hubris or at least an overestimation of my own capababilites or power.

I knew I couldn’t do it all by myself, I just wanted to do everything I could possibly do to make a difference.

You can probably imagine where all this led to. Complete exhaustion, nervous breakdown, burnout in my mid-forties. And suddenly I was no longer able to take care of anything, not even myself. Quite scary!

I could no longer be there for others, but had to focus on myself. Something I would have always dismissed as selfish and self-centred. Now I had to be to get better, to recover, to heal.

I learned a lot along the way.

I can’t save the world single-handedly.

I can’t stop the course of the world.

I can’t change people. I can’t rescue them. Not even the ones around me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one for giving up, resignation or worse: indifference. I’m all for standing up and doing what I can.

When I thought about changing jobs, back then at that dream-job-turned-horrible-job at the library, I considered working for a foundation, a nature conversation organisation, an animal welfare organisation or an NGO. But the more I looked into that and the more exhausted I became in my then-job, I realised I just wasn’t able to do it all over again - the fighting against the odds, tilting at windmills. I had no energy left. That’s why I didn’t get involved in local politics either like I thought I would after not working for the municipality any more. It would have been the same pattern again. It would end in burnout again. I know that of myself now.

I’ve had to take a different route, find some other way that aligns with my values, let me act on them, but would let me put my responsibility for myself, my energy and my wellbeing first (still a concept I’m in the process of learning).

I can’t fight every battle. I have to pick and choose. Some conflicts I just can’t resolve. And I don’t want the feeling of responsibilty to be a reflex response any more.

It’s hard to feel the weight of the world for almost five decades. I want to put it down now and just shoulder what’s really mine to carry, what I’m really responsible for in my small-scale life. I don’t want to stem everyone else’s responsibility as well.

I’ve found that I can only act within my boundaries. The boundaries that I’ve set to protect myself and those that my still limited energy demands.

Here’s what I still can do:

Treating nature, the environment, resources and all living beings with respect.

Taking responsibility for what I eat and don’t eat, what I buy and don’t buy, how I treat others (with kindness, respect, empathy, an open heart & mind), what I do - in my garden, what transports I use, what organisations and companies I support etc.

Donating if I can.

Writing. About how I see the world, share what I see, feel, hear, think, and about what worries me. Changing something with words, that’s what writers tried to do for centuries, isn’t it? Offering thoughts and insights. In the hope of making someone think, feel, consider, empathise.

That’s what I can do - or can try to do - without burning out again.

That has to be enough for now. But it’s something and maybe it’s not so little.

I can’t say that the weight of the world has really lifted (how could it in this state the world and the planet are in?), but I try not to add so much weight to my shoulders on top of it, to put it down at least sometimes, to find joy in small things and moments, to see the beauty in nature, to have people around me with a similar mindset and values - and I strive to laugh more, light-hearted whenever possible. Not to laugh everything off, but to be able to carry on and not get buried under the weight of the world. I don’t take my responsibility lightly, but I also have one for myself and my own wellbeing. I’ll honour that.

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P.S.: There will be lighter topics and posts again soon, I promise. :) But these thoughts and reflections are also a part of me and my journey. And maybe you feel similar in some respects? I’d love to hear about it.

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Related posts …

Coming to Terms With My Limited Energy

When Retreating From the World Feels Right

Turning Away From Pressure