Post #21 -- Living in the Margin -- Part 1

"Marginalized, I muttered under my breath as I tossed the new headquarters policy memo onto my desk.  Several years ago I would have been the one to write that policy memo.  Now in my almost-retired years, I seldom even heard of these new policies.  I was drifting deeply into despair as I visualized my position on the margin of all that was happening in my organization.  I felt like my life as I’ve known it was ending.  But then something rose up within me and an awareness gripped me that life was not ending, but indeed was just beginning with new purpose.  I seriously suspect that if that “something” had not been gradually personalized through the years, life for me at that moment would indeed have been over.  What was that “something”"?

The above paragraph is from my book, From a Dad … to Those Who Follow.  As I reread these words I realize there is probably more to be deeply explored about this concept of living in the margin. That’s the plan for the next two-part post.  In this post (Part 1), I’ll define what I mean by “margin” and what it feels like living there.  In the next post (Part 2), we’ll explore the “something” that helped me overcome the negative feelings of living in the margin and look at what it takes to thrive while living in this state.

Margin, how I feared and hated that word! 

I am, or at least I used to be, a bit of a control freak.  Like it or not, God has wired me as an ENTJ.  And anyone who knows the Myers Briggs Personality Test knows that ENTJs love being in the middle of things and in control of most of it.  Enjoying living in the margin, living simply does not come natural for us ENTJs!  But here I am — seeking to thrive in this “unnatural” state!

WHAT IS MARGIN?

Let me first define what I mean by “margin”.  This is not the “margin” popularized by Richard Swenson in his book Margin in which he describes margin as “…having breath left at the top of the staircase, money left at the end of the month or sanity left at the end of adolescence.”  

Instead I’m using the term to refer to the emotional space that exists on the periphery of any organization, team, or any other relational circle in which some people are part of the center or core while others are on the fringe of power and decision-making.  Some are “in the know”; others are watching and wondering.  Marginalization happens when one feels the effects of being part of this margin.

Webster defines marginalization as “to relegate to an unimportant or powerless position within a society or group.”

A business dictionary expands to describe marginalization as — “The process whereby something or someone is pushed to the edge of a group and accorded lesser importance. This is predominantly a social phenomenon by which a minority or sub-group is excluded, and their needs or desires ignored.”

No one likes being part of an inner circle of some type and all of a sudden, for whatever reason, finds him or herself on the outside of that circle looking in.  That’s living in the margin.

For some people, marginalization comes on the job — like feeling the job is slowly being given to a new hire … or gradually noticing a trend of not being invited to key meetings … or noticing a growing relational distance from the boss or others in the relational circle.  There may be many valid reasons for these occurrences, but inevitably one begins to feel like he or she is living in the margin — it’s the feeling that I’m no longer in the core of this organization helping to make basic decisions.

For others, marginalization comes out of cultural or economic hardships where people simply can not compete with confidence, leaving them with a feeling of being down trodden, worthless, and good-for-nothing.

For still others, it occurs at that point when life eventually leads one to step out of the position of control and forces the leader to watch others make decisions.  Watching this from the margin can be difficult.  What does that feel like?  How does one learn to rejoice in the margin?  

I write not as an expert, but as a practitioner who is currently transitioning from a position of knowledge and power to a position of watching and wondering.  I write with the hope that, as I write, some of this will possibly become even clearer for me — and maybe help you too in the process.

MY ENTRANCE INTO THE MARGIN

The first 21 years of my life after college were spent as a leader in the USAF.  I could tell people to jump and they’d ask “how high” on the way up.  I thrived on the position and rank of power and influence.  I was respected and it felt good.  

Then I transitioned from the USAF career to leadership within a Christian organization inhabited by staff who, though part of the organization, functioned more like volunteers.  Being in “control” was significantly less clear, though there was still the need for top-down leadership which I enjoyed.  I felt at home as part of the national director team for our organization and enjoyed a sense of fulfillment with the breadth of influence and visibility I was receiving.  It’s true that I was “serving the Lord”, but I must come clean  with you and tell you that I also found meaning in the pace of life and the demands and visibility of the job.

Today I’m older and I’m still ministering part-time within this organization — though I have stepped out of several leadership roles and am no longer making the guiding decisions I once made.  I am “slowing the pace and narrowing the focus” in order to continue publicly contributing to the calling to which God has called Marilyn and me — yet at a pace more compatible with my age and circumstances.

But admittedly this transition to a “new normal” has not come easy.  Case in point:  Several Christmases ago our adult kids were awkwardly trying to move me away from the grandkids to give me a special present of some sort.  After maneuvering me to an isolated corner of the house, amidst their giggles, I opened a nicely wrapped T-shirt.  On the front of that shirt was attractively printed the phase, “Slowing the Pace, Narrowing the Focus”.  As I held up the shirt for all to admire, I was quickly smacked by the bold letters on the back side, “BULL SH*T!”  These kids don’t normally talk this way, but some how I guess they felt this seemed appropriate for the occasion.  Since then they have assured me they really do see me as gradually making some progress in living within my new world — though I now have a shirt I can not wear anywhere!  As I said, treading into the margin was to be feared and avoided if at all possible!

WHAT LIVING IN THE MARGIN FEELS LIKE

The retired leader of the company now living in the margin fights the feeling of no longer being needed or important.  The phone does not ring off the hook like it did at one time and the secretary no longer brings him coffee.  He hears of decisions having been made and realizes he was not aware of that decision — or worse, he was quite sure he would not have decided like that. Instead of him making life happen, he is now watching life happen!

A vibrant member of a close-knit relational group of friends who, for whatever reason, is no longer part of that group, senses the same feeling that “I’m not important; they don’t care about me.  I’m now a loner and don’t like it.”

The athletic type who regularly works out with some good friends and suddenly has a physical crisis that limits his involvement at the gym, steps into the margin of life feeling frustrated, lonely, purposeless, discouraged, and depressed.

It simply does not feel good.

At the beginning of this post I described my turmoil living in the margin and suggested that I seriously suspected that if that “something” had not been gradually personalized through the years, life for me at that moment would indeed have been over.  

The big questions before us are: What was that “something”? And can I thrive in that context?

Keep reading.  We’ll seek to answer these questions in the next post.