The Saboteur

We all have several key archetypes in our personality makeup: protector, victim, wizard, hermit, etc. These patterns are common among all people and are diverse enough to keep things interesting. Although we’re not strictly limited to these constructs, they do influence our behavior greatly, and the knowledge of your types can be a source of tremendous power and self discovery.

For me, one type dominates all others – The Saboteur. This is the guy who, if left to his own devices, would leave you penniless in a heap in some Slovakian hostel. He sees permanence and structure as the enemy, and strives to kick the supports out of every scaffold in your life. That is the darker side of The Saboteur.

But here is the upside – he is also the only archetype who can excise the unimportant things in our existence that we sometimes cling to. He is the one to strong arm a CEO to leave a cushy top floor office and start up an animal rescue in Kenya. He is the one to leave traps in your alibi when you walk a tightrope of lies. He will force you to throw out your junk food, burn your bras, cancel your cable, and terminate a friendship.

In my case, I made peace with The Saboteur long ago. But it took a decade or more of confusion in my twenties, wondering why I quit college, botched a sales job in Manhattan, walked out of relationships. It took almost fifteen years of hindsight to see how all of those instances were way points, and The Saboteur stepped in to block the paths that didn’t lead me to where I am today. That’s not to say that those roads were wrong, or that the ones I followed were right. It only means that my archetype understood my vector more clearly than I could, and steered me like a lumbering container ship toward the ports that were preordained for me.

I feel him strongly now, as I deconstruct my life in preparation for my new role as a father. There is an awful lot of stumbling, as the crutches are ripped out of my hands, but my legs are more solid than I had ever imagined and I lurch forward. He faces me now, like a drill sergeant dressing down a recruit, screaming my flaws at me. And I am deeply thankful for it.