When growth becomes an excuse

Riding someone else’s coattails is a form of corruption.

It’s a way to benefit from work I have not earned. And it’s tempting. It’s comfortable to let things ride for as long as I can, avoiding the difficult work of creativity, leadership, growth, and delivering the next valuable thing. It’s also a way to avoid the emotional toll of rejection, failure, or obscurity.

It’s even easier to ride our own coattails — to relive glory days, to navel-gaze at past successes and think, wow, look at how much I’ve grown.

When I do this, I let myself off the hook from looking ahead and continuing to grow, serve, and innovate. Surely I don’t have to create more for others or give more of myself. Surely I don’t need to treat others better — look at how much I’ve already given.

However tempting, riding our own coattails may be even more corrupt than riding those of others. We’re not only benefiting from something we haven’t earned; we’re lying to ourselves about it.

I’ve struggled with this lately. I’ve been trapped in reflection about the past decade of my life. I’ve grown, contributed, and sacrificed so much since my father died ten years ago.

But you can’t profit off the same album forever.

I still yell at my kids. I still do little about the needs of the poorest in my community. I still miss deadlines. I still try to replace faith with control. My cholesterol still hovers at the edge of elevated. I am still crabby with Robyn more often than she deserves.

The point is: I’m still unfinished.

I don’t have to be a perfectionist. But I also can’t justify staying as I am forever by pointing to how far I’ve come.

I’ve been in awe of my own growth — and rightly so. It truly has been a decade of transformation for our family.

But growth becomes corruption the moment it becomes an excuse. It’s time to move on.

The break is over.

I won’t ride my own coattails forever.