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Inevitable Train Wrecks

  • Writer: Louise Carnachan
    Louise Carnachan
  • Sep 9
  • 3 min read

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“What was that about?” asked the son of friends who’d graciously attended a show I was in. “Truthfully, I have no idea,” was my reply. The playwright/director/lead had been impervious to the cast’s feedback; he would not hear it. His best friends asked me to intervene but I was no more successful than they. The show stunk: the plot was murky, character arcs were absent, the five-part harmony songs (when only three of us could sing) failed, and it was FAR too long. My best performance was the night I unwittingly skipped an entire page of a three-page monolog. The playwright was furious. It was embarrassing to be part of this production. We were powerless to save the situation yet we cared too much about the person involved to abandon him. 


Sure, our dire predictions can be wrong and presumptuous. But that’s not the situation being addressed. We’ve all been witness to, or participants in, train wrecks orchestrated by those who refuse to back down. What personal examples spring to mind? An ill-considered work project? Those who refused expert advice because they “knew” what should be done? Loved ones who made terrible decisions—or decided no action was required when it absolutely was?


While we might want to shout, “I told you so!” to shame or punish, it’s painful to witness an inevitable crash if we care about the people or situation. There’s sorrow about wasted effort, compromised safety, misplaced dollars, and/or dashed dreams. We’re left to wonder if it’s really our role to save the day when we’re not in charge. Yet how do we live with ourselves if we don’t speak up?


Each circumstance is unique and there are no formulaic answers. Some people appear to more easily distance themselves saying, “It’s not mine so I’m not going to worry about it.” At least that’s what it looks like from the outside. Of course, I have no idea how they feel when things go poorly. In contrast, some assume uber responsibility in an attempt to avoid pain for themselves and others. That’s a role I’m familiar with but I’ll confess that it doesn’t work so well either.


The ways in which we bump up against each other in life aren’t tidy or predictable. Even when we’re certain how things should be, we’re often powerless to affect change. Then there are the times that we are in charge but end up making decisions with which others disagree. As a species we aren’t great at soliciting advice and considering it—or proffering guidance in a palatable manner so it can be heard.


So what’s one to do—stay silent or speak up? There’s no playbook, just some observations:

  • The reality is you aren’t in charge of anyone else’s life—no one’s, not even your kid’s. We’re all entitled to learn from experience, that’s where the School of Hard Knocks comes from.

  • Allowing someone autonomy and the opportunity to learn doesn’t mean you are prohibited from speaking up. And you must do so if being silent would be a dereliction of duty or a moral oversight. But remember that being vocal does not equate to getting the results you want.

  • As difficult as it is to stand by and watch, sometimes things have to play out to their inevitable conclusion even if the entire mess could have been avoided.

  • We might all hold a degree humility in the face of what we consider to be other people’s mistakes. We’ve all made decisions during our lives that onlookers wanted to influence differently.

 

Given how wedded we are to doing things our way regardless of well-meant warnings, it should come as no surprise that collectively we have a terrible track record of learning from history. Even when the results appear inescapable, if we have a vested interest we should certainly raise a clarion call when we see a train wreck coming. What will you do?

1 Comment


Roxie Matthews
Roxie Matthews
Sep 12

Not my circus. Not my clowns. If, however the clowns want to involve you in the act, it is wise to exit the tent.

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© 2020 Louise Carnachan.

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