NPK has a diary on the rec list, (where this diary does not belong) that got me thinking. The kind of filth NPK describes won’t go away. It has to be dealt with to have any hope of transforming a life. That is the conclusion I’ve reached after listening to a few faith leaders and health professionals, so here goes nothing:
For a lot of years I lived a dual life, working really hard at industrial jobs by day with frequent and prolonged travel assignments, and betraying those I loved whenever I felt sorry for myself. I was, at times, a manager, but usually screwed up the role by trying maybe too hard to keep everyone happy, mostly the rank and file. Our results were positive at times, and a few of my superiors seemed to wonder why I was so determined to declare defeat after a year or two and quit.
Two reasons come to mind.
1. Production schedule variations already imposed more strain on plant employees than the non production staff who ordered them. As a manager, I needed to believe longer than everyone else that our efforts to continuously improve, and in so doing appeal to the boss’ self interest, would pay off in proportion to the sacrifices made. That was never true, as can be seen in real wage declines vs. productivity increases over the last twenty years or so.
2. The way people at the bottom were treated offended me. There was always one set of rules and incentives for the grunts and another for the office staff. I will not go into detail on the tragedies that befell working people that I knew, but some lives were lost and others were forever changed for the worse. On top of this, there was actual racism that I am ashamed to say I did not fight hard enough. If a top dog today ended a glowing endorsement of a potential employee with “and he’s smart”…”white guy”, I’d like to believe I’d deck him.
Alright, that is just a background to describe some fuel in the fire. It is also true that I have always been a conflict avoider with crappy social skills and no stomach for personal branding or other “techniques” for success.
Running away was my only coping skill when I thought I could take no more, which is kind of odd because in my younger days, I was 2-0 against bullies. Adult bullies use economists and community leaders to do their dirty work and can convince you for a long, long time that you just aren’t good enough.
So here’s the ugly. I quit more frequently as time went on, drank too much, broke sacred vows and left hanging too many decent people working in a rotten system. My first job out of the service lasted five years. The last was over in nine months. I was a mess, rattling with ssri’s and staying a step ahead of a third unscheduled vacation when I saw hope and added my shaky voice to the call for change.
I tried to start a business with a sibling, and in the process ran into some political types. I did some volunteer stuff and voiced my support on line. Big mistake. One or the other might have been cool, but the combination was disastrous. I managed to screw up both with a cached history of humiliating comments and the beginning of another bigger and uglier real-world meltdown.
I was never paid a cent. I was not starstruck. I was a degenerate who wanted to join what I was sure would be a groundswell of people supporting a strong, positive plan for sustainable growth and environmental care. It was supposed to be a good thing. Now it is just a good thing that it is over.
My lotus growing from all of this muck is the nonpolitical community service work I do today and the new job I am starting next week at a quarter of my old salary, where I can work beside the rest of the grunts in nature. Somebody else can run the machines that churn out consumer products for a while. And somebody else can change conventional wisdom. I just need to live and love.
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