Lately it has become abundantly apparent that I have reached my limits at work. There may be those who can work miracles and make things happen in today's business world, but I have to be honest with myself. It is a painful thing to acknowledge that you are lost and unable to find a way to succeed. It is a place that I don't remember ever finding myself before and it has taken me a long time to recognize it for what it is. In my limited "career", the American business landscape has become all about doing more with less. This is not a wonderful philosophy. I do not believe that any great or wonderful things have ever been created with such a restraint. The dirty little secret to it all is that there are very finite limits to the ability to do more with less. At a certain point, one cannot even accomplish the same level with less and it begins to twist and fall into mediocrity. The standard shifts and we risk the failure to recognize it before the output becomes a worthless shadow of what it once was.
The word "manager" could be broken down into its two roots. "Man", in today's PC world, is the generic term for the male and female population of the earth. "Ager" quite literally would be a factor that makes one grow old. As I look about me to the answers that I lack and the dwindling mental and emotional resources, I feel like a man who has been aged too rapidly and who may not be able to come back from it. It is a vicious cycle when you don't have the answers to life's questions anymore because it forces one to question whether or not they ever had the answers. Maybe I never did, or maybe the questions have morphed into something less natural.
I didn't put all these pieces together about work until I started to look outside of it. It was only in the real world of the last few years that I have started to see the parallels. From what I can tell, the world has begun its fall over the precipice. While there is always the chance and hope that collectively we will be quick enough to grab the ledge before falling forever into the dark spaces, I have lost my faith that our survival reflexes and instincts are intact. I believe that we have lost our sense of what matters and we have let the pettiness take hold in new and terrifying ways. At least they should be terrifying, if people actually took the time to look outside of themselves. But they don't.
I met a World War II vet today named John. John will be ninety-one on the 23rd of this month. He has seen a lot in his life and has given a lot. I was shocked during the course of our conversation, to hear that this brave man who had fought in Anzio felt the burden for much of what the world has become today. I had heard anecdotal stories that the World War II generation had tried to shield their children from the hardships of their own youths. To hear John explain it, in his words, this bore a following generation who weren't as tough, who expected more for less and who turned inward with selfish desires. I watched John's eyes tearing up a little as he walked me through how he saw it happen both with his children's generation and then into the next.
I would never think to fault John for this, but it is clear that society has inadvertently created a number of monsters. Absent from political debate and water cooler discussion lately is the concept of what is best for this country. All I ever hear is what is best for this group or that group and impassioned pleas to right some past wrong. The complete failure to recognize that we are all in this together and that every action has a reaction has been lost to the dialogue. This is not an anti-American thing; the truth is this seems to be happening everywhere. We have lost our way and the trail of bread-crumbs has long since blown away.
In my estimate, we probably have ten years left to change course before it really will become irreversible. Once we continue to become ensconced in our ill-gotten gains from the sweat and toil of others, there will be no way short of armed revolution to break out if this mold and this is not likely to bear non-tainted fruits. We have to start acting now to reassess how we look at life.
This is where I feel that this dove tails with my work experience. As with work, there are so many things that you could point to as broken that you really don't know where to start and even if you pick a place, you lack the resources and wherewithal to recover from the state we are in. The same is true of the planet. I know that there is a lot of good out there, but there is a lot of terrible stuff as well. Most people seem so self-absorbed that they are unable or unwilling to care. Life goes on without a pause for thought or consideration.
I want to make a difference, but like at work, I feel insignificant in the face of the challenge. As I try to stare it down, my confidence falters and I question my abilities. Beyond that, there is the issue of my very limited finances. While I was listening to the "Way of the Bodhisattva", there was one message that particularly resonated with me. To paraphrase, it was about shifting from the viewpoint of, "If I give to others, what will I have to keep for myself?" to a more sublime position of, "If I keep for myself, what will I have to give to others?" Having accepted this concept, how does one rectify it with their relationship and financial security in the face of today's economic quagmire?
For today, I have tried to find ways to continue giving that do not threaten these aspects of my life which are also important to me. I have begun searching for things in my life that I do not need or which no longer represent who I am:
Item
|
Profit
|
2000 Hyundai Elantra
|
$600
|
Transformers collection (~250 items)
|
$400
|
CD Collection (~500 sellable CDs)
|
$950
|
Video Game Collection (~50 games)
|
$200
|
Books (~200 books)
|
$250
|
DVDs (~300 DVDs)
|
$900
|
Stopped drinking Pepsis
|
$2,000/year
|
This housecleaning has enabled me to continue to donate to Farm Sanctuary's valuable and important work. On the one hand it is a great thing and I would encourage everyone to go through their homes to find things that they do not need anymore and either sell them for the charity of their choice or donate them to Goodwill where the proceeds will go to help many. This could bring a positive effect from our economy of useless things. On the other hand though, it is temporary. Once I have cleaned house, so to speak, I am still not able to do all that I wish I could. I cannot stem the progress of suffering and I feel that most people could care less. They bemoan their inability to get a new big screen TV while nearby a neighbor struggles to put food on the table or any number of charities must shutter their doors because they cannot meet the demand.
I am in an awkward place because I would like to give more than I ever have before. I feel like I need to, as if to fail to do so is to fail to be sentient being. The only way that I can be sentient is to act on what I perceive. If I have to hide my face for shame of not being willing to help, I am no better than anyone else. There are times when I wish that I was only responsible for myself so that I could act where today I am afraid to. As I have begun absolving myself of my material possessions, I am learning more and more how little I need them, but that is a personal thing. I can get away with that with my things. I feel as if I just cannot do enough.
In the midst of this convoluted despair and overall funk, I received a letter. The return address on the letter was vaguely familiar, or at least the name was. It reminded me of an internet news story I had read back in late February, 2009. The story was of a baby who needed a heart transplant to survive. The problem was that the cost of the transplant far exceeded the family's insurance or their own personal funds. I remembered reading this story and feeling the same need to do something. I also recalled, in annoyance, the comments that accompanied the story. In many of them, the people commenting had made remarks that the money would be wasted or that there was little point in saving just one baby while thousands more would die. My ability to contribute was meager, but I had made a donation to the family because I disagreed with the comments at the time and felt that it was very much worth saving even one life.
As I opened the letter, I was relieved to see that it was a "Thank You" card announcing the baby's one year anniversary with his new heart. That in itself was wonderful news, but the timing of the message was inspired. I won't lie and say that it snapped me out of my mood entirely, but it did serve as a potent reminder that it is what you do that matters more than what you cannot do. There will continue to be more problems in the world than we may be able to fix, but that is not a reason to become paralyzed. Thank you Laith for helping to remind me of that.
