Invisible Man

14 Jul 2010 by Paul Rutherford

My eldest son taught me an important lesson at the weekend.

J turned 19, and is recently-returned from university. He’s experienced some independence, but is back living in the family home. Already, that makes for an interesting dynamic.

He asked if he could have a barbecue with a few friends to celebrate his birthday.

His mother and I agreed, seeing it as a chance to meet the social circle that he had chosen, rather than the one forced on him at school.

(Even when your children are entering their 20th year, there’s still an obligation to worry. As a wise man told me many moons ago:

“The sleepless nights never go away – but the reason for not sleeping changes over the years.”

Only after we agreed, did J add: “By the way Dad; I’ll have to look after my guests – would you cook the barbecue?”

You can learn a lot about negotiation from your children.

His friends turned out to be a level-headed bunch; I was happy for all of them to be in the house / garden. Drink was consumed, music was played, jokes were told. And there was a lot of hugging.

It was an incident-free evening.

And for most of it, I was completely, utterly invisible. In my own home.

Usually at a dinner party or barbecue or supper, I’m at the centre of things (or so my wife lets me believe). My responsibility is to entertain and engage. It’s part of being a host.

But at J’s barbecue, I became a utility.

All the guests were polite, with appropriate “pleases” and “thank yous” – yet I might as well have been an outside caterer brought in for the function.

On a stage where I usually have  a speaking part, I was no more than the third spear carrier.

After I got over the ego-bruising realisation that none of them really wanted to speak to me, I watched my son look after his guests, enjoy their company, and sit at the centre of things.

And it was hugely rewarding.

* * *

I think that’s how it should be when we have the courage to let go of the people and projects in our teams. When we sublimate our egos and get the hell out of the way. If nothing else, it’s a healthy reminder that we are all dispensable.

It’s also a reminder that the best we can do is pass on whatever wisdom we may have gathered along the way, and let others build upon it.

Our children are on loan to us. So are our roles.

We’d better get used to letting go of them.