Theo Hartley — The Human PLAYBOOK
Work & Power

Cheer up, kid — no one is coming to save you

On August 17, 1986, I woke up in the morning, packed a bag, and left for the army induction base. Nobody came along to see me off, and that was perfectly fine. That's how it was done back then.

From that point on, I never again lived in my parents' house. I lived in tents, barracks, apartments — places that were not where I was born.

I understood that I was alone.

And it was okay.

Frightening, not always easy, occasionally making you want to hug an imaginary teddy bear — but on the whole, okay. It didn't kill me.

And insights fell like fruit. Many. One in particular didn't fall to the ground; it lodged deep and stayed:

You have exactly two options in this world: to be alone, or to be lonely.

Hold the reproachful looks — I want to explain.

I don't mean you should live alone. Absolutely not.

I mean that each of us must make peace with the fact that we are running our own show — that we write the script, and no director or acting coach from outside can take the burden of coping off our hands.

We used to be trained for this from age zero: to be alone. To manage alone. To steer our own emotional storms alone.

At least, once upon a time we were. Today many parents deny the whole subject, and many children remain attached to the apron and the family car well into their thirties.

And then the other side of the equation bites them: if you don't know how to be alone, you will be lonely.

Nobody truly wants to share their life with an oversized child. Nobody wants to feel they carry full responsibility for their partner's peace of mind on their back.

As our friends abroad put it: get a life.

You are alone in this world — and not in the cold, alienated sense. In fact, this understanding will stress you in the short term and redeem you in the long term: this life is your project. It always will be. Take command of it.

One more thing: try — really try — not to blame others for what happens to you.

In most cases, it isn't them.

Cheer up, kid. No one is coming to save you. That is not bad news. That is the job description — and the freedom.