When I was 21, I worked at a warehouse equipment company in Renton. I started as a file clerk and was unwisely promoted to sales coordinator. I say unwisely for two reasons.
One, I was 21 and all I was really interested in was writing poetry, partying and experiencing life. A job was not a career, it was a means to an end.
The other reason is that they promoted me but did not train me, and thus, I didn't do a very good job coordinating sales & installations. I tried, but being the youngest and only female member of a 13 person sales team just wasn't my cup of tea back then. That was probably the only time in my life that I didn't take work seriously.
Eventually I moved to Capitol Hill and quit that job to work at the Chicken Soup Brigade (helping people living with AIDS). They all made fun of me and mocked me for going to work in a soup kitchen (it was actually a thrift store), but that just made me feel better about my decision to get away from the rampant social ignorance in the sales environment.
I was thinking yesterday about how far I've come since then, and how entangled my identity is with my career now. Because of all that "experiencing life", I found what my true passions were and have made a good living since then doing just that. All of those young sharp salesmen would be surprised, I think, at what I've made of myself.
I had a really vivid dream last night that I went back to work there. It wasn't in the same capacity but I was confident and talented. I was walking through the office, seeing the now aging faces of all the salesmen that I had worked with. I was wondering if or when they would recognize me and if they would be impressed with my work. Even though warehouse equipment isn't my thing, I was sure that I could knock it out of the park for them, being the professional that I am.
If I can help it, I'll never have just a means-to-an-end job again. Hopefully I'll have the luxury of meaningful work in this life. But even if I don't, I feel like I know the value of work and my own worth now, where I didn't before. It's all an evolution. I think my subconscious was giving a shout-out to that revelation, and I appreciate that!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Witness
You have a narrative in this world from the moment you are conceived. It is created, developed and nurtured by everyone you come in contact with. It's richness and soul is in every interaction. You cannot control it, elaborate on it or edit it, although we all try to.
At the end of your time in this world, all of your people will bear witness to your having been here, and your effect upon their lives. In sharing these stories with each other, all of your people will come to know you in ways they never imagined, in ways you could never imagine. Your narrative will blossom and you will live on in legend, and in their hearts as long as your people remain.
At the end of your time in this world, all of your people will bear witness to your having been here, and your effect upon their lives. In sharing these stories with each other, all of your people will come to know you in ways they never imagined, in ways you could never imagine. Your narrative will blossom and you will live on in legend, and in their hearts as long as your people remain.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Got Any Change?
The Mercer on ramp is always rife with colorful characters. By characters, I mean panhandlers for a lack of a better word. Bum or beggar seems too rude. Sometimes when the light hits just right, I end up stopping right next to one of these guys. Sometimes I give change if I have it and sometimes I just wish them happiness and health.
I had seen this particular character before. I always wonder about these young ones. Are they just begging for sport or for some rebellion against working for the man, or are they really in trouble? I wonder, because I’ve known people like this. This guy was one of the bold ones, walking right up to my window.
With a mouthful of Cheetos, he held out his hand and asked me if I had any change. I handed him a handful. He was impressed, and then he fell in love with me. He told me repeatedly that I was beautiful. When I did not speed away or roll up my window, he took it as an invitation to come on over. He leaned on my window and looked in my car. He noticed the Buddha hanging from my mirror and he noticed my wedding ring.
He asked me if I was rich, and I said definitely not. With a ring like that, you must be, or he must love you. Does he love you? I looked him in the eye. He was dirty, but good-looking. He didn’t look particularly crazy or desperate. He looked like someone I might have hung out with in the old days. He does love me, I said, and smiled. He smiled too and then said, as the light changed, I’d love you too as pretty as you are.
And you know what? I took it as a compliment, and I was flattered. I’m not amazingly beautiful or magnificently kind, but I do try to see the decency in people and treat them with respect. I don’t care if he was just working me for money or he was just high. I feel like giving him the benefit of the doubt and accepting the affection. I say, pay it forward. It goes a lot further than a handful of change.
I had seen this particular character before. I always wonder about these young ones. Are they just begging for sport or for some rebellion against working for the man, or are they really in trouble? I wonder, because I’ve known people like this. This guy was one of the bold ones, walking right up to my window.
With a mouthful of Cheetos, he held out his hand and asked me if I had any change. I handed him a handful. He was impressed, and then he fell in love with me. He told me repeatedly that I was beautiful. When I did not speed away or roll up my window, he took it as an invitation to come on over. He leaned on my window and looked in my car. He noticed the Buddha hanging from my mirror and he noticed my wedding ring.
He asked me if I was rich, and I said definitely not. With a ring like that, you must be, or he must love you. Does he love you? I looked him in the eye. He was dirty, but good-looking. He didn’t look particularly crazy or desperate. He looked like someone I might have hung out with in the old days. He does love me, I said, and smiled. He smiled too and then said, as the light changed, I’d love you too as pretty as you are.
And you know what? I took it as a compliment, and I was flattered. I’m not amazingly beautiful or magnificently kind, but I do try to see the decency in people and treat them with respect. I don’t care if he was just working me for money or he was just high. I feel like giving him the benefit of the doubt and accepting the affection. I say, pay it forward. It goes a lot further than a handful of change.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Things I Never Want To Do
Sometimes I get all worked up about the things I need to do. Well today I'm going to let myself off the hook and just make a list of the things I never want to do. So the to-do list doesn't seem so long, see.
1. I never want to climb a mountain. I know they're there and I respect that. I just don't want to climb one, or train to climb one, or risk my life on one. That's not the kind of adventure I'm into.
2. I never want to be President. Too stressful and too much BS.
3. I never want to live long enough to lose all my faculties. Or be a 21 year old cat, for that matter.
4. I never want to think that I have to cake my face with makeup and wear teeny clothes to impress men. (Side Note: I never want to walk around Greenlake in high heels.) I'm not sure it's that impressive and it's waaaay too much effort for the perceived payoff. Call me lazy, but I think I've done ok without it.
5. I never want to gain a ton of weight out of laziness and not caring.
6. I never want to be so arrogant that I think I have nothing to learn or that other people are here to serve me.
7. I never want to own fish, a lizard or a snake. Reptiles and what-not should be outside where they belong.
8. I never want to make so much money that it becomes my main goal in life, or to chase the carrot of material possessions. I'm not a saint and I like my comforts, but I can also scale if I need to.
9. I never want to be faithless.
10. I never want to live in a shack with cars and junk in the yard with weeds up to my knees. That might be some people's thing, but it's not mine. If I live in a shack, it's going to be a tidy shack.
11. I never want to be involved in extreme sports, or advanced pretzel yoga. Sounds like a lot of work and a lot of risk. I'm not adverse to work or risk, I would just rather spend that energy elsewhere.
12. Speaking of work, I never want my life to be consumed by it. I am lucky to have a career that I enjoy, but working to make other people rich is not my main mission in life.
13. I never want to be a jackass.
14. I never want to kill anyone for any reason.
15. I never want to own a boat.
I feel so much lighter now!
1. I never want to climb a mountain. I know they're there and I respect that. I just don't want to climb one, or train to climb one, or risk my life on one. That's not the kind of adventure I'm into.
2. I never want to be President. Too stressful and too much BS.
3. I never want to live long enough to lose all my faculties. Or be a 21 year old cat, for that matter.
4. I never want to think that I have to cake my face with makeup and wear teeny clothes to impress men. (Side Note: I never want to walk around Greenlake in high heels.) I'm not sure it's that impressive and it's waaaay too much effort for the perceived payoff. Call me lazy, but I think I've done ok without it.
5. I never want to gain a ton of weight out of laziness and not caring.
6. I never want to be so arrogant that I think I have nothing to learn or that other people are here to serve me.
7. I never want to own fish, a lizard or a snake. Reptiles and what-not should be outside where they belong.
8. I never want to make so much money that it becomes my main goal in life, or to chase the carrot of material possessions. I'm not a saint and I like my comforts, but I can also scale if I need to.
9. I never want to be faithless.
10. I never want to live in a shack with cars and junk in the yard with weeds up to my knees. That might be some people's thing, but it's not mine. If I live in a shack, it's going to be a tidy shack.
11. I never want to be involved in extreme sports, or advanced pretzel yoga. Sounds like a lot of work and a lot of risk. I'm not adverse to work or risk, I would just rather spend that energy elsewhere.
12. Speaking of work, I never want my life to be consumed by it. I am lucky to have a career that I enjoy, but working to make other people rich is not my main mission in life.
13. I never want to be a jackass.
14. I never want to kill anyone for any reason.
15. I never want to own a boat.
I feel so much lighter now!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Judge and Jury
Am I responsible for how my art is received by another person? If I write something for reason of expression and someone has a negative emotional response to it, am I required to feel guilty about it?
I've come to a point in my life where I feel that I don't have to be ashamed for what I am or for what I express. It's a process, right? Although I very rarely do anything with the intention to harm someone else, sometimes, out of ignorance or inexperience, I do. I can own up to that, apologize, learn from it and determine to change my ways. But I do not, ever, have to be ashamed of who I am in my process. Guilt and shame are completely counterproductive and regressive emotions. You can be accountable for your actions without punishing yourself with hateful emotions.
It's difficult for me to express my most intimate and honest thoughts directly. I have to summon my courage to put it out there, to surrender to it. I give myself full permission to explore certain aspects of myself without judgment or censorship. The truth of who I am is in constant flux and I accept that. I honor it even though sometimes it's not pretty or clean or logical.
It is surprising and disappointing to find that people don't even consider this flexibility of mind for themselves or for the people around them. If we can't express who we are with our friends - the good, bad & ugly - are they really our friends? What qualifies one person to stand in judgment of another?
I promise you I am not whatever you think I am.
I've come to a point in my life where I feel that I don't have to be ashamed for what I am or for what I express. It's a process, right? Although I very rarely do anything with the intention to harm someone else, sometimes, out of ignorance or inexperience, I do. I can own up to that, apologize, learn from it and determine to change my ways. But I do not, ever, have to be ashamed of who I am in my process. Guilt and shame are completely counterproductive and regressive emotions. You can be accountable for your actions without punishing yourself with hateful emotions.
It's difficult for me to express my most intimate and honest thoughts directly. I have to summon my courage to put it out there, to surrender to it. I give myself full permission to explore certain aspects of myself without judgment or censorship. The truth of who I am is in constant flux and I accept that. I honor it even though sometimes it's not pretty or clean or logical.
It is surprising and disappointing to find that people don't even consider this flexibility of mind for themselves or for the people around them. If we can't express who we are with our friends - the good, bad & ugly - are they really our friends? What qualifies one person to stand in judgment of another?
I promise you I am not whatever you think I am.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Freedom: A Perspective
I was sitting in a ReelGrrls board meeting this evening and I get so inspired about the work that they do. I wish I could just jump in and help them with all my might. Of course I can do that energetically, but it's just not practical money or timewise for me to be able to give everything I would like. Right now.
So that got me thinking. What would my life have to look like for me to be able to do whatever I wanted in the world? I like working, I like what I do and I love the company I work for now. But how could I get to the point where I could do ANYTHING and what would that be like? I'm usually so absorbed in what's in front of my face that I don't often take the time to dare to dream. It's unfortunate.
Of course, I would need to be funded. I don't have any rich elderly relatives, and I make good money but only enough to support my household. If and when I do retire I'll probably have enough to live modestly. I don't know where this money would come from, but that doesn't mean it won't come, right? It could.
The real element I lack, and this is surprising for me to admit, is the inner freedom to let myself go there. If I truly wanted to, I could arrange my life differently so that the financial burden wouldn't be my number one obstacle. It's not anyway. The obstacle is my mind. It might be shocking to my system, but if I gave myself permission I could do anything. I am surprised by this realization because this inner freedom is how I've gotten to where I am now, but somehow I got complacent and locked into the belief that this is all I am. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am so much more. How can I unwind it?
If I could have anything I wanted, I wouldn't work to make other people rich. I would work only motivated by doing good. I would be able to offer myself up to ReelGrrls as a volunteer or staff member. I would do as much for Dharma as time allowed. I would travel the world and break myself out of my white middle-class capitalist complacency. I would take the time to have a family and then have the luxury of time to raise them. I would smell the roses.
All of this thinking led me to this - right now, I have everything I will ever need and so much more than I ever thought I would. I can't enjoy all the material things life has to offer, and if I do have kids it will be a struggle. But so what.
Just the desire to be a force in improving the lives of others is freedom in itself. That desire says that I am so fortunate in this world, that I am able to rise above my own problems and take a look around. There is nothing wrong with my lot in life. If I have to work until the day I die and I never experience that windfall I think I need, I can spend every one of those days with the intention to benefit those less fortunate. It's not what you do, it's the mind you do it with.
So that got me thinking. What would my life have to look like for me to be able to do whatever I wanted in the world? I like working, I like what I do and I love the company I work for now. But how could I get to the point where I could do ANYTHING and what would that be like? I'm usually so absorbed in what's in front of my face that I don't often take the time to dare to dream. It's unfortunate.
Of course, I would need to be funded. I don't have any rich elderly relatives, and I make good money but only enough to support my household. If and when I do retire I'll probably have enough to live modestly. I don't know where this money would come from, but that doesn't mean it won't come, right? It could.
The real element I lack, and this is surprising for me to admit, is the inner freedom to let myself go there. If I truly wanted to, I could arrange my life differently so that the financial burden wouldn't be my number one obstacle. It's not anyway. The obstacle is my mind. It might be shocking to my system, but if I gave myself permission I could do anything. I am surprised by this realization because this inner freedom is how I've gotten to where I am now, but somehow I got complacent and locked into the belief that this is all I am. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am so much more. How can I unwind it?
If I could have anything I wanted, I wouldn't work to make other people rich. I would work only motivated by doing good. I would be able to offer myself up to ReelGrrls as a volunteer or staff member. I would do as much for Dharma as time allowed. I would travel the world and break myself out of my white middle-class capitalist complacency. I would take the time to have a family and then have the luxury of time to raise them. I would smell the roses.
All of this thinking led me to this - right now, I have everything I will ever need and so much more than I ever thought I would. I can't enjoy all the material things life has to offer, and if I do have kids it will be a struggle. But so what.
Just the desire to be a force in improving the lives of others is freedom in itself. That desire says that I am so fortunate in this world, that I am able to rise above my own problems and take a look around. There is nothing wrong with my lot in life. If I have to work until the day I die and I never experience that windfall I think I need, I can spend every one of those days with the intention to benefit those less fortunate. It's not what you do, it's the mind you do it with.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Why The Dissin'?
I was at the Post Office on Saturday. It was as to be expected - long line and lotsa slowness. When you step into the PO, just be prepared to take it at a slower pace.
Also be prepared for a cesspool of disrespect. People are impatient and rude a lot in the Post Office. You hear a lot about people "going postal" and when you see how postal employees get treated by the crazy public, it's not surprising.
The guy at the counter was there to pick some mail he'd missed at his house. Apparently it had been re-delivered to his house. But he wasn't having any of it. At top volume he was shouting at the clerk, telling her that she is wrong, he lives at his house and it's not there. Nice. Real nice. Another employee came out to help and the two of them went back into the warehouse to look for it. They didn't come back for a long, long time.
A couple of customers later, another guy was explaining to a different clerk (also at the top of his lungs) step-by-step how she needed to scan and handle his parcel, and then how to take his money. Now, maybe she was new and granted she didn't speak English very well, but no one deserves to be told how to do their job by a customer in such a condescending authoritative tone.
To make it all the more entertaining, the first guy, who was still waiting for the clerk to re-emerge from the back, whispered under his breath, "What a dick!"
It's just mail, people! No need to get so worked up!
Also be prepared for a cesspool of disrespect. People are impatient and rude a lot in the Post Office. You hear a lot about people "going postal" and when you see how postal employees get treated by the crazy public, it's not surprising.
The guy at the counter was there to pick some mail he'd missed at his house. Apparently it had been re-delivered to his house. But he wasn't having any of it. At top volume he was shouting at the clerk, telling her that she is wrong, he lives at his house and it's not there. Nice. Real nice. Another employee came out to help and the two of them went back into the warehouse to look for it. They didn't come back for a long, long time.
A couple of customers later, another guy was explaining to a different clerk (also at the top of his lungs) step-by-step how she needed to scan and handle his parcel, and then how to take his money. Now, maybe she was new and granted she didn't speak English very well, but no one deserves to be told how to do their job by a customer in such a condescending authoritative tone.
To make it all the more entertaining, the first guy, who was still waiting for the clerk to re-emerge from the back, whispered under his breath, "What a dick!"
It's just mail, people! No need to get so worked up!
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