Punching Bag

Mar 21, 2024
2 min read


Some days feel like you've been someone else's punching bag. A never-ending onslaught of right hooks, and left jabs to test your mettle.

Other days feel like your job is to catch the grenades thrown by people who are really just trying to do the best they can, with the little they've got.

Yet your job seems like it's all about weathering the storm of their incompetence.

Other days feel like your job is to sit quietly whilst others do their training; as they learn how to be good purposeful, leaders. As they stumble and they fall, and look to you to blame for their stumbles and their falls. For their inadequacies, not yours.

Somedays feel like you're everybody else's punching bag, where your day will only be good, if theirs is better.

Do they ask how your day is as they walk in every morning to unleash on you, the punching bag, their fears and their anxieties, their worries and their weaknesses? The surreal thing is, sometimes they do.

Somedays feel like you are somebody else's punching bag, as they try to climb the invisible ladder of which you are merely an invisible rung.

Somedays feel like this and they stretch and turn into weeks of weathering somebody else's idea of how it should be.

Not yours. Theirs.

And we forget that we are still here. Capable and able. Standing here.

Willing and imperfect.

Vulnerable and weak, yet with something they don't have.

We forget that we are ready to take the day on.

We forget that we made it this far, through the swamp and the forest, on our own, without their permission, we withstood the pummelling.

We tried things and we failed, yet we kept getting up each day and tried again to push against the grain and make a path that we see.

That we believe is true.

We listened as others joked, and chuckled under their breath sad things that only make sense to them and their circle, about the things we did and the things we tried.

We simply listened and embraced the moment and here we are today, not because somebody said so, or allowed it, but rather because we chose to be here.

And we'll still be here tomorrow because that's what a punching bag does. It weathers the storm through its resilience and its fortitude.

One punch at time.

One day at a time.

See you next week.

This essay was first published for subscribers of The Weekly Journal of Creative Leadership and is copyright
© Dimitri Antonopoulos, Tank Pty Ltd and can not be re-published without the express permission of the Author.


MarchFirst, The Creative Pro & Strategy Masterclass are Copyright All Rights Reserved Tank Pty Ltd.

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