I just returned from a week-long vacation in beautiful Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.
On the drive there, I was listening to a podcast when I suddenly decided to turn it off and enjoy the scenery. In the quiet, a memory surfaced that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.
It was a situation where someone was blaming me for something that had very little to do with me and much more to do with where they were in their own emotional development.
As I replayed the experience, I had an epiphany about the blame game.
And it never would have happened if I hadn’t experienced being blamed myself.
As I drove, I realized that my role in that situation wasn’t to fight the blame, explain the blame, or absorb the blame.
My role was simply to hold it.
Now, I’m not saying I was going to ignore my own responsibility in the situation. If there was something that belonged to me, I absolutely wanted to acknowledge it and make amends where appropriate.
But I also wasn’t going to apologize for things that weren’t mine to carry.
Once I separated out what was mine to take responsibility for, there was still a lot of blame left over. Blame that didn’t belong to me.
In the past, I probably would have tried to convince the other person of that distinction. I would have attempted to explain what was mine and what was theirs.
If you’ve ever tried that, you already know how well that usually goes.
That’s when the deeper realization came.
I wasn’t supposed to accept the blame.
And I wasn’t supposed to defend myself against it either.
I was simply in a position to hold it, separate from me, while the other person worked through it in their own way and in their own time.
This is a concept I’m still exploring, but it feels incredibly powerful.
It takes compassion and empathy up ten notches because it eliminates so much unnecessary conflict. It removes the need to prove, defend, justify, or persuade.
Now I can be in the middle of conflict and still feel at peace.
I can hold this immature energy without taking ownership of it. I can let it exist without needing to fix it.
All I need to do is receive it, take care of what belongs to me, and place the rest in an imaginary garden where it can either dissolve or be transformed into something useful over time.
I suspect most of us have experienced this at some point in our careers … especially those of us who lead people.
Blame, criticism, frustration, or even outright vitriol has been directed our way, and deep down we knew it wasn’t really ours. Or at least not all of it.
Much of it belonged to someone who was still learning how to regulate their emotions, communicate directly, or take responsibility for their own career and relationships.
And I say that with no judgment.
Only compassion.
Because we’ve all been that person at one time or another.
There’s something really special about experiencing blame, not as a burden, but as a gift you’re temporarily holding for someone while they work through their wounds and strengthen their own self-responsibility muscles.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this epiphany.
Does this perspective make you feel a little more peaceful and empowered the way it does for me?
Let me know.
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