They say that power has a distinctive scent, a mixture of incense and adrenaline which, once inhaled, clouds one’s ability to distinguish between the ‘self’ and the ‘role’. The phrase of the day, “Relinquish power”, confronts us with the idea of letting go, of yielding, of stepping aside. Yet, in the theatre of life, it seems everyone wants to be the leading actor until the curtain falls, and even afterwards, some try to hold on to the curtains with tooth and nail.

The mirage of the office

Let’s start with the executive who has spent three decades in the same office. For him, the company is not a workplace; it is his fiefdom. He has confused his identity with the letterhead on his business cards. When the time comes for retirement or a generational handover, ‘relinquishing power’ feels like an amputation.

^{DAVINCI AI}

He convinces himself that he is ‘for life’ because, according to his own narrative, no one else knows how to steer the ship. He fears that, upon leaving his chair, he will become invisible. And therein lies the tragedy: human beings would rather be an exhausted tyrant than a wise man in retirement, because retirement reminds them that they are mortal and dispensable.

The Nation’s Messiah

If we look at the political arena, the picture is even more brutal. The president who arrives with promises of change often ends up believing himself to be the only possible architect of a nation’s destiny. The presidential seat is held together by an invisible glue made of flattery and isolation.

When time runs out, these leaders do not see a natural succession, but rather a betrayal of the nation. They believe themselves to be gods because they are surrounded by people who do not dare to tell them that they are merely human. For them, ‘relinquishing power’ is not a democratic act; it is symbolic suicide. They would rather set the house on fire than hand over the keys.

Everyday micro-tyranny

But you don’t have to be a CEO or a head of state to observe this phenomenon. We see it in the father or mother who refuses to let their adult children make their own decisions, exerting a suffocating emotional control (because even at forty, they still call them ‘my baby’). We see it in the expert who does not share their knowledge with younger people for fear of being surpassed. In each of these cases, the fear is the same: the fear of the void that remains when you no longer have control.

Everything has its time (even if we struggle to understand it)

Nature is our most overlooked teacher. Trees do not try to hold on to their leaves in autumn; they know that to blossom again, they must stand bare. The sun does not cling to its zenith; it yields its place to the moon so that the world may rest.

Human beings, on the other hand, have invented the fiction of permanence. We find it hard to understand that relinquishing power is the ultimate act of true authority. Those who voluntarily let go of the reins demonstrate that their worth does not depend on their position, but on their character.

Final reflection

‘Relinquishing power’ is, ultimately, an exercise in humility and a victory over fear. Everything has its time under the sun: a time to build, and a time to watch as others build upon what we leave behind.

The problem isn’t the chair; it’s believing that the chair belongs to us forever. Learning to step down with dignity, without waiting to be ousted, is perhaps the most difficult and necessary lesson we have to learn. Because only when we let go of who we think we are do we have our hands free to discover who we really are.

Come and participate; there's still time. You can find all the information daily in the #Freewritehouse Community. Specifically, today's prompt post: