Why I Became Angry

I have been genuinely angry this week, and instead of immediately trying to spiritualize the anger away, I have listened to it. Because sometimes anger is information. When irresponsibility exists in a system that serves vulnerable people, the consequences do not remain inside an office or disappear into an organizational chart. Eventually they reach somebody’s body, somebody’s home and somebody’s life. When people avoid responsibilities, when communication fails, when decisions are postponed unnecessarily or when individuals become more concerned with protecting themselves than fulfilling the purpose of their role, somebody else carries the cost. And when the people carrying that cost are sick, vulnerable or dependent upon others for basic support, I find it very difficult simply to observe from a comfortable distance. This is where Week 35 has challenged me.

Which battles are actually mine?

When I was younger, I entered almost every battle. If something felt unjust, I wanted to correct it. If somebody behaved badly, I wanted to confront it. If a system did not work, I wanted to tear it apart and rebuild it before lunch. I no longer live that way. There is wisdom in choosing our battles, because our life force is precious and we can exhaust ourselves fighting everything that is wrong with the world. But choosing our battles cannot mean choosing none of them.

Discernment asks something more difficult of us: Is this mine to address? Will my silence protect peace or protect dysfunction? Am I reacting from my own wound, or responding because something genuinely needs to be said? Who carries the consequences if everybody decides to look away?

The Rotten Apple

We often use the expression a rotten apple when talking about unhealthy organizations, and I have thought about that image several times this week. One rotten apple does not mean the entire basket is rotten. There are extraordinary people working inside imperfect systems every single day. I have met them. People who quietly do more than their job description requires, who care deeply, who take responsibility, who find solutions rather than excuses and who remember that behind every case number is a human being. Discernment means seeing them too. But the expression contains another truth: what we refuse to address can spread.

Dishonesty that is repeatedly tolerated becomes culture. Avoidance that is rewarded becomes normal. Manipulation that works is likely to be used again. And when responsible people continually compensate for those who refuse responsibility, dysfunctional structures can survive much longer than they otherwise would. That is why Enough Is Enough is not necessarily an angry statement. Sometimes it is an act of care.

It can mean: I will not help this pattern continue.

It can mean: I will no longer pretend I do not see this.

It can mean: I will speak, even if speaking makes the room uncomfortable.

And sometimes it simply means walking away.

Two Lives of Service

In the middle of all this, Week 35 has also carried profound loss.

Norway lost King Harald V on August 28, after more than three decades as our King, and his passing has touched something very deep in me. In the days surrounding his death, I created the song “Hele Norges Bestefar — Whole Norway’s Grandfather” as my own tribute to a man who, for so many of us, represented something far greater than a royal title. There was a warmth, humility and humanity in the way he met people, and a remarkable ability to stand in a position of enormous privilege without losing his connection to ordinary human life. I have therefore decided to create a separate page in honor of King Harald V, not simply to remember the King we have lost, but to explore what his life taught us about service, dignity, humor, belonging, resilience and the kind of leadership that does not need to make itself bigger in order to have an impact.