I am nothing without them.
Without them, I am just me. Alone. Powerless. I can talk, talk talk. I can write, write, write. I can walk around in circles patting my head and rubbing my stomach. I can do all that and recite the Gettysb…a dirty limerick…while beat-boxing, but I would still be nothing if not for them.
Without them, I would mostly in my head. The majority of my day would be spent just sitting there. Staring at a screen. Reading stuff on the internet. I’d feel important. I’d feel like I was doing something worthwhile. I’d feel like all the reading was going to make a huge difference in the world. But it wouldn’t. Because I would be nothing without them.
I am nothing without them.
Here’s how I define nothing: vacuous, without substance, and devoid of meaning. That’s a pretty comprehensive description of nothing, if you ask me. Carve the hours you are asleep out of the day. Carve out the hours you’re driving here there. Carve out the hours you’re engaged in acts of hygiene and bodily functions. Carve out the hours you meander aimlessly. Carve out all that time, and you’re left with very little “other” time. For me, that’s the time I get to spend with my family, and that time is precious.
But they aren’t the ones about which I write.
Of course my family gives my life meaning. Of course they influence the purpose I pursue in my life. Much of what I do, I do for them because we are part of an interdependent collective. We’re a family! But the time I spend with them is slim compared to the time I spend at work. And at work, I am called a leader.
I am nothing without those I lead.
You see, I make nothing. I build nothing. I program nothing. My purpose is to lead, to manage. My existence, according to the company, is to ensure that the people I lead have the type of working environment they need in order to get things done, important things.
They are the company. Without me, they continue on. I am replaced. They keep working.
At first, this seems like a very strange realization to have. Andrew Carnegie purportedly said:
“Take away my people and leave my factories,and soon grass will grow on the factory floors.
Take away my factories but leave my people, and soon we will have new and better factories.” I wonder what he would have said about middle management? He probably would have said something like, “Take away a middle manager, and two more will grow in its place.” We spend an awful lot of time at work. I think those of us who choose to lead others should be clear about our purpose. And I think we should be clear about who we serve. Without a spirit of servitude, you’re pretty much left with a middle manager and a grassy factory floor. Oh, there may still be people there, but you’d be farther away from that new and better factory than you could possibly imagine.
Take away my factories but leave my people, and soon we will have new and better factories.” I wonder what he would have said about middle management? He probably would have said something like, “Take away a middle manager, and two more will grow in its place.” We spend an awful lot of time at work. I think those of us who choose to lead others should be clear about our purpose. And I think we should be clear about who we serve. Without a spirit of servitude, you’re pretty much left with a middle manager and a grassy factory floor. Oh, there may still be people there, but you’d be farther away from that new and better factory than you could possibly imagine.
