Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Take your ball and go home


Today at work, I suffered a small, but infuriating injustice. Was it real or perceived? Not sure. Here's what happened.

I recently brought a fitness ball to work to sit upon instead of my less-than ergonomic office chair. The ball is about 3 feet in diameter but it fits neatly in my open, completely unprivate cubicle. My cubicle is in a far corner of one of the 4 floors occupied by my employer in a high-rise office tower. Few people have reason to visit this corner except for those whose cubicles or offices are near mine.

This afternoon I was told to take my ball home. Apparently, someone complained to my boss that it was unprofessional and takes up too much space. I was not told who made said complaint. I accepted the request from my boss without argument. I was caught off guard and unsure of how to react. We are expecting lay-offs due to budget cuts and my first thought when she asked to speak with me was that this might be it.

After the fact, however, I am irritated-outraged even! Do I let it go or is it my duty to protest? Does whoever complained about it really care about professionalism? Or is it more about keeping the cubicle-dwellers in their right place? My first instinct is to ask my boss who-- who had the audacity to make such a petty complaint about something so seemingly innocuous and none of his or her business.

My second instinct is to complain, loudly, to anyone who'll listen. This I have already begun to do. In the few hours since my boss made her request, I have told no less than 7 co-workers, and my husband, my daughter, and a friend. To experience my own outrage through the eyes of others is a way of affirming my justifiable rightness.

Of course, a question I've been asked to consider is "would I rather be right or would I rather be happy?" Can't I be both? Whatever is the "right" thing to do, I realize that this seemingly small offense touches a deep nerve. I have learned in recent years, whenever I have a problem with someone (or someone's request), the real problem lies with me. Take for example, the pursuit of instinct #1: Just asking the question would put my boss in an awkward position. Perhaps she is counting on my - um - professionalism to just take my ball and go home. And let it drop. She most likely has bigger fish to fry. And if I find out who it is, what purpose will it serve? Do I really want to start a "take your fitness ball to work" crusade? Is that a good use of my energy? Part of me, the part that asks whether it's my duty to protest, knows that the deep nerve that feels raw is about what's "fair" and about standing up for myself; but mostly it's about pride and ego. Sitting in a regular office chair will not make me less of a person - unless I allow it to.

And what about the pursuit of instinct #2: that's a tougher one and one that is harder for me to let go of. Sharing my frustration with loved ones is one thing. They don't work where I work. They won't be overheard by my boss or my boss's boss or other coworkers. They can offer me support and advice without being tied into the drama of my personal relationships at work. Sharing my outrage with my co-workers is a a whole different "ball" of wax. I'm purposely looking for signs of outrage as well as hints as to who the culprit is! Not very mature or thoughtful behavior. But I find it difficult to "let it go." Ah! The allure of justifiable anger!! Unfortunately, that's a luxury I can't afford.

In my pursuit of a resolution, I will have to ask for guidance on the next right thing to do. My boss did offer a consultation with our workplace's ergonomic expert. That's probably a good place to start. Wonder what he sits on?

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

For Benny

I’m sick of this bed

I’m sick of my head

Telling me things that aren’t true

I wish I weren’t here

I’m glad I’m not there

So many things to push through

Memory’s a prison,

Memories are reasons

To carry on over the dam

The river is swollen

The river is raging

I’ll drown in the way that I am.

No younger, no younger

I’ll never get younger

Sitting here, waiting for rain

With my ego undone

I’ll walk into the sun

And start to swap nothing for pain

For pain is one side

Of the joy that it hides

And all of the muck down below

Will gather God’s glory

In its infinite story

As up to the surface I go.

~M. Gardner, 1/18/10

Monday, September 14, 2009

"I exist as I am. That is enough." Walt Whitman


Is it? Last night I had the experience of dining with "accomplished" people. People roughly my age who are uber-professionals. One, a doctor, journalist, and TV producer. The other (her husband), a published author and contributing editor for a very well-respected, well-known publication. They have the sort of house that you see in movies about interesting, intellectual, complicated,
accomplished, people. Whimsical and eclectic art; a grand piano; a dog and a cat with equally charming personalities; many, many books on grand, built in bookcases; unusual and well-worn furnishings--more chic in their shabbiness. This is a house where grown-ups live. Grown-ups with full and interesting lives that take them to foreign cities and dinners with famous people and the sets of famous TV shows to which they consult.

The other adult guests were charming and fascinating as well. The daughter of the other guests, and of our hosts, a pair of 12 year-old girls, cooked the meal that we shared. We were regaled over dinner with stories of famous and not-so-famous, interesting,
accomplished, people.

What makes a person accomplished? Why did (do) I feel so "less than" after my evening with these grown-ups? I think of Emerson's words: "
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." Alas, this has become the measure of my days, the goal I strive for. It may be too late for some kinds of success. But it is never too late to live in the moment. In fact, the older I get, the more imperative it seems. In the moments that make up a 24-hour day, can I be kind and loving? Can I reach out to someone in need? Can I make someone laugh, and not at someone else's expense? Can I set a good example for my daughter about what it means to be human in relation to another human? Many, many days I fail at one or most or all of these things. Just as I have failed at grander enterprises: jobs, dreams, relationships, careers. But every day, if I want it, I have the opportunity to try again to succeed at being the best person I can be. A worker among workers, a true and caring friend, a grateful and loving daughter, a gentler mother and spouse. That can be enough, if I am humble enough to let go of my ego and if I remember not to compare myself with others.

Heck, I'm no Walt Whitman!

Friday, July 24, 2009

To live in this world...

"...To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."

Monday, June 22, 2009

Humility

Say with each breath
"Make me humbler,
Make me humbler;"
when you are small as an atom,
you will know his glory.
~Rumi

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Wishbones

Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be.
~Clementine Paddleford


What great advice! Am I encouraging my daughter to grow a wishbone or a backbone? This is something I think about (worry about) often. For most of my own life, I definitely cultivated, lovingly and not so lovingly, the wishbone. Wishing for my prince instead of nurturing my inner princess. Wishing for a better job instead of giving my best to the one I had at the time. Wishing for my diploma instead of going to class. Wishing for everything to go my way instead of flowing with the current of the day. Wishing for someone to take care of me, to carry my load, instead of strengthening myself in order to carry my own burdens. That wishing led me to take people hostage, to feel sorry for myself, to rationalize my bad behavior at every turn. Maybe today the wishbone, hollow and empty, frail and brittle, is being transformed to backbone - strong and sturdy, fortified with love and grace. This is the best way I know how to show my daughter that wishes are wistful without the integrity to stand up tall, with her back straight.