Power answers to something

Look back at the week. The schedule you set, the junior you trained, the customer at your mercy, the lowest rung you chose to pay in full, the favor you gave by desert instead of by liking, the need you met at home before it was asked. One idea ties them together: the power you hold was never really about you. The supervisor, the trainer, the parent, the one who takes the calls — each holds a scrap of authority that points outward, toward the people it touches.

Marcus, who held more power than almost anyone alive, kept the rule short: "First, do nothing inconsiderately, nor without a purpose. Second, make thy acts refer to nothing else than to a social end" (Meditations 12.20, Long). A social end. Power that serves only the one holding it has curdled into something else. Power aimed at the good of the people under it is just justice with leverage.

Next week turns from the authority you hold over others to the weight you carry alongside them — pulling your share without resenting the ones who carry less. Holding power fairly and carrying your load honestly are the same justice, seen from two ends. This week you wielded what was yours. Next week you'll shoulder it.