Duty is another one of those words that has taken on the tenor of devotion to goodness. It is good to do one’s duty. People who do their duty are good people. But duty is another substitute for authenticity. It is another form of external control—as opposed to internal awareness and conscious decision making. In other words, it is another lie. It originated in the belief that if people are not externally controlled, they will just naturally do and be evil.
People have various duties to parents, siblings, families, churches, religions, friends, lovers, husbands, wives, jobs, bosses, coworkers, etc. If they do those duties, then they are good people. If they do not do those duties, then they are bad people—or at least less than good. That’s just how it is.
Questions cannot be raised about duty without seeming as if we mean to topple society. Duty is simply what we must do. Any question raises the specter of rebellion—even anarchy—which, of course, simply cannot be tolerated. Duty implies that a person knows what is expected of him, so he will do it without question. The idea of duty has so much authority in our thinking that it makes us believe we don’t have a choice.
But here is the danger of doing our duty: while we are doing our duty, we have no clue what we might authentically do with that same energy if duty were not calling. Duty is not genuine. Duty is rote behavior that one does because it is one’s obligation. Of course we are good to our families—that’s just what we do. But we have not considered that we could do much better by our families if we were to operate out of passion and compassion rather than duty. Duty is duty. You just do it. But when do we get to stop and think about what our authentic Self would tell us to do?
The good guy is filled up to overflowing with words like obligation, should, have to, and ought to. He learned a long time ago not to rock the boat by questioning its contents. The good guy is obligated up to his eyeballs. He knows all too well what he is supposed to be doing, and if he even thinks about not doing it, he starts to feel very guilty. Ask a good guy what he desires, however, and he will not know. Ask him what he would like to do next right after he gets through doing his duty, and he will not know. Ask him what his fantasies are, and, if he’s honest, he might tell you he’d like to get away from everyone all the time. He’d like to just be left alone. Why? Because he can’t seem to be around people without serving them.
Desire vs. Duty
The good guy does not know what she wants—for to want is to be selfish. She is not even sure who she likes and dislikes—so attuned is she to duty that she doesn’t even ask for emotional contentment. She operates entirely out of guilt-driven obligation. She is definitely involved in other people’s lives to the point of utter exhaustion in some cases. But the involvement is not coming from an authentic core. Rather, it is fear that she will not do the duty good enough, that the person will not like what she’s done, or that something else will go wrong that she’ll have to fix. There is no question asked about when, if, or how she will stop—she simply must keep doing and doing and doing—because that is her duty.
Some will look at these individuals as selfless, thinking their actions are a good thing. These are selfless people who know that sacrifice is necessary for the good of all. They are described as “never thinking of themselves,” “never asking for anything from anyone,” “He will give you the shirt off of his back.” These descriptors are accurate, for the good guy has been taught that to think of self is wrong, to ask for anything is wrong, to hold on to your shirt is wrong.
A person who is selfless is a person with no self—a person who is not conscious of a Self. But how will one know if the service one provides is authentic or not, if one cannot find a place of genuineness within? If all the giving that I do is done from the principle of duty, is there any room to give from the principle of compassion or passion? Would I even recognize compassion if I am so motivated by duty?
What’s Wrong with Doing Your Duty?
You might ask, “What difference does it make whether a person does a thing because he has to or because he passionately desires to?” The job still gets done, right? One difference is in the health—the mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical health—of the giver. The giver who gives from true passion and compassion feels no stress and strain in giving. The gift comes right up out of the soul and is manifested in action. But the giver who gives from duty feels great strain and stress in the giving. The gift comes from the fear of being bad, the frustration of not being able to fix something, the bargaining with life energy that claims goodness as survival, and even from the hopeless despair that there is nothing else to do but give. This has a deep impact on the psyche, which has a deep impact on physical health.
To be so filled with duty that one is run by the threat of guilt over not doing one’s duty is to be run by anxiety. To be so filled with duty that one measures one’s worthiness by the fulfillment of obligations is to be depressed. Filling life up with duty leaves little to no room for passion or compassion, which leaves one to live as if one were not really alive.
This kind of inauthentic action influences not only the giver, but the receiver as well. When Janice gives to her grandmother because she is obligated to do so, the grandmother feels this obligation. It is exuded out of Janice’s behavior, attitude, and energy. She knows that Janice is only doing this because she has to. She knows that it’s not really coming from love. But if Janice gives to her grandmother because her compassion has created a deep desire to give to her grandmother, then the grandmother is going to feel that very differently. The grandmother will feel the depth of passion and compassion exuding out of Janice’s behavior, attitude, and energy, and she will not only feel closer to Janice, but feel genuinely loved.
We might say that duty is good in some instances, but if overused it can become dysfunctional. But I would go back to the origin of duty—which is lack of trust in the authentic self. We formulated duty because we believed that the authentic Self was not enough to create genuine, empathic, loving, and kind behaviors. We did not trust the inner spirit to be able to orchestrate a life that would not be harmful to others. We thought the inner human was so bad as to need external control. So we formulated duty and we spent the rest of our time telling each other what our duty was so that the right thing would be done.
The entirety of the concept of duty, then, is based in a false construct. We do not need external control. Duty is plastic in the face of the power and persuasion of the authentic Self. We need to know who we are and operate out of that authenticity. When we do, we will know when we are being called by the inner urgings of empathy, compassion, passion, kindness, and love. We will be able to use the entirety of our inner messaging system to facilitate an alignment with the authentic Self in everything we do, say, and think.
The Myth That Sacrifice
Is the Highest Form of Love
The idea of sacrifice is another aspect of duty. If I give out of duty, obligation, or fear of guilt, then I want something in return. I want to have that feeling of accomplishment that having done one’s duty can bring. Through sacrifice, I want to be recognized for my loyalty—or if not recognized at least to receive a return loyalty. I want to avoid feeling guilty. I might even want you to literally give me something back because I gave so much to you. But these mean that it is not actually a sacrifice but a trade. And if I give from love, I am not looking for a return; neither have I sacrificed anything. When I give from love I am acting from my genuine nature. This means that the idea of sacrifice is a myth. Love is not a trade, and trading is not sacrifice. Only love—i.e., genuine passion, or compassion—is real.
Genuine passion says, “I really want to do this, I’m excited to do this, this is going to be fun, I’ve been longing to do this for a long time, I can’t wait to do this!” Genuine compassion says “I care so much for you that the caring itself is a deep desire to do something for you, to offer you the gift of my care.” But the myth of sacrifice says, “I don’t want to do this, I really hate doing this, but I have to because they need it. So I’ll go do it, and then I won’t have to feel guilty later.” The qualitative difference between passion and compassion and this pretense of sacrifice can be deeply felt if we will but pay even the slightest bit of attention.
The problem is that for most good guys, passion and compassion are not even allowed into the realm of possibility because they are too busy operating out of should, ought to, have to, duty, sacrifice, loyalty, and obligation—which are all motivated by guilt. But passion and compassion come up straight out of the authentic Self and can be completely trusted to be enough to carry us into the right action.