Ever Feel Like You’re an Extra in Someone Else’s Play?

“Remember you are just an extra in everyone else’s play.”

–Franklin Roosevelt

Years ago, I took a class on “Organizational Development.”  We read a fascinating book, Images of Organizations, by Gareth Morgan. His basic point is that we often use metaphors to describe organizations.  But it can be helpful to be aware of what metaphors we are using and to know that we can use different ones.

For instance, if we want to use “organic” or biological imagery, we might say “This place has come alive since she took over…”  Or: “There’s a cancer in that organization and it’s growing.” If we use a mechanistic metaphor, we might say “This place runs like a well-oiled machine.” or “…he showed up and threw a wrench into the works.”  Other options include a brain, cultures, political systems, and systems of domination.  But my favorite metaphor was “psychic prisons” – a rather harsh way of saying that in any place we might work, everyone shows up with their private and personal agendas.  (I might have preferred he call this “psychic dramas.”)  What we do is determined by our job; but what our work means to us drives much of our behavior and sense of satisfaction.

Another way to put it is this: every day, each of us is writing a drama about our life in which we are the central character.  I interpret what my boss or coworker says and does based on what is unfolding in my life.  If I need affirmation, are they affirming me? If I’m climbing the ladder of success, are they doing what I need them to do to advance my career?  If I’m looking for social support and companionship, is work a place where I can find friends and social relationships?

When I started in my career, I had high hopes for what I would accomplish. I wanted to do what I was hired to do and do it well. But I also wanted to put on a good “performance” so that my career would advance. Even as I genuinely respected others and wanted to serve them, in one way they were playing supporting roles in the drama I was writing in which I was the main character.

This perspective was helpful to me when I became responsible for a staff of employees.  I found it enlightening to try to understand what each employee’s life script might be as they came to work so I could look for ways to support them.

It’s fun to consider the possibility that everyone is doing this – everyone has a script they are writing in which they are the main character and the rest of us are “extras” — everybody comes to work as both an employee and a private playwright.  

This is also applicable to family dynamics. I had a colleague who described how stressful Christmas was for her and her sister as they were growing up.  They lived in the same town as their grandmothers.  During the holidays, the grandmothers would compete for the affection of the two girls with gifts and special parties.  The girls could sense the competition and were often anxious that they would disappoint one or the other grandmother.  Each grandmother was writing a play in which they were center stage, and the grandchildren were supporting actors.

FDR was a skilled leader and shrewd politician.  He had a strong sense of what personally motivated other people and how to shepherd them toward a common purpose, letting both their self-interest and higher ideals come into play.  He knew that even as president, he was “just an extra in everyone else’s play.”

As life goes on, the role we play in our life-drama can change.  I do not need to “build my resume” anymore or impress an employer or board member.  I don’t need to be center stage in my drama.  Now I can focus on how to be useful to my community and my family, content with being a “supporting actor.” 

A few years ago, I was wondering – and worrying — if my grandkids would remember much about the time I was spending with them.  Then I realized I was making it about me, not them.  They are now the garden where the future is growing. My job is to simply be compost in their lives; I don’t need to imagine my name in the long list of credits when the movie is over.  This has become a liberating thought.

What does spirituality have to do with this?  I believe spirituality has at least two dimensions: it begins with finding something greater than us that inspires us. We then feel a call to serve that greater reality by serving others.  In the process, we find both a joyful humility and a clear call to action.  We become part of a larger drama where we are not the star – we’re “just an extra.”  But somehow, we discover we’ve never played a more satisfying part.