My wife tells me that her
friend wanted to see me about a problem. Then another friend comes along who
has another problem. While doing some groceries an acquaintance stops me and
shares his problem. I am far too civil to shut down these impositions, but a
mild rebuke telling them I'm not in the free legal aid business is almost
tempting.
But it is not in my form to
be rude, so I bear them all, forcing a smile. In times like this I wish I could
shed off my thick lawyer's hide like a molting snake would, so I could just be
myself, be left alone, without having to deal with someone else's problem.
The worst thing is, once you
wrestle with the problem, there is the pressure of having all the answers to
every problem. This is stressful. I don't have all the answers.
Psychologists describe this
as the God-complex. The desire to be in control. You begin to like the feeling,
the elation of untangling other people's mess becomes a challenge. So you keep
on doing it anyway, even if you don't like it. You become a stress junkie.
"Relax, man", says
my friend, the intellectual bum. "You are not God, you know."
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