Transitions

It’s getting harder and harder to keep my insecurities at bay these days. 

No… this has nothing to do with my dream of becoming a published author.

This has to do with Mom.  As I walk down the hall that leads to Mom’s hospital room, I’m afraid of how this story will end.

No…  That’s a lie.  I’m not wrestling with a fear…. but with a natural law.

I know how this will end.   

It’ll end the way each of our journey ends.

The Relationship between Mental and Physical Health

My 87-year-old mother is in the hospital with congestive heart failure.  For years, the doctors have told her that she needs to replace the valve in her heart, but she doesn’t want the operation because she’s afraid of having a stroke on the table—which is a risk.

But we can’t talk about any type of surgery now…

All we’re concerned about at the moment is getting Mom’s meds managed, getting her back on her feet, and getting her strong enough to get her home.  To do that, she’ll have to go to a rehabilitation center to regain her strength.

And before she can do that, the doctors have to get her meds managed so she’s stable enough to be discharged from the hospital.

As each day passes and new symptoms (and consequences of past trial-and-error medicines) surface, an increasingly thick layer of depression and misery hangs around.

Doctors are giving Mom a mixture of meds, trying to stabilize her, but I’m as concerned about Mom’s mental attitude as much as her physical health.  One feeds the other and vice versa.  The mixture of meds, which are causing a chemical imbalance, is also creating an emotional imbalance which is affecting her moods, outlook, and her overall health.

I’ve given up trying to contribute in this situation.  My presence is met with criticism and rebuttal.  Her extended family has rallied around her, and nothing I say or suggest is credited with any value.  They all know better than I, and I’m dismissed as soon as I arrive.    

On one hand, I’m hurt by this; but on the other hand, I’m released from the responsibility.  There are doctors and nurses in our family who are more knowledgeable than I, in this particular area. 

I know that everything happens for a reason and will work out the way it is meant to work out. 

And, even though all we can do is take one day at a time, it's hard to convince the rest of them of this unchanging and natural law...

But then again, tomorrow is another day and brings with it another chance to do better…




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Time’s Teasing Me

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that Time was playing tricks on me — and I’m not talking about how each moment of the workweek crawls by at a snail’s pace, while the weekend flies by in a blink of an eye.  I’ve gotten use to that particular injustice.   

No, I’m talking about, literary, stopping time….

For example, in the last couple of weeks, I reconnected with a two people that I hadn’t talked to for a while.  Both brought me back to uncomfortable incidents that happened three years ago.  Neither was ready to let the past go.  Neither wanted to move forward to experience the present and fantasize about the future. 

Time has stopped for them — holding them hostage to the demons that live within the unforgiving darkness of their psyche. 

But, on the other end of the spectrum…

I was part of a celebration this weekend, where a group of us sang for others.

Unfortunately, the “administration” of the organization was more concerned about Time than genuinely celebrating the spirit of the event. 

But Time played a trick on them — on all of us, in fact. Time stopped still, and our little world had to stop in response.

It happened during one of the last songs.  A solo singer sang — a cappélla — “How Great Thou Art.”  He sang all four verses… slowly… deliberately… and soulfully.  No one moved, no one made a sound, and no one complained.

Time stopped the world, so we could appreciate his gift.

Thank you, Time.  

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Narcissism

I’ve been thinking about narcissism ever since a close friend of mine mentioned that another friend of hers accused her of being a narcissist.

Well… my friend does have a heighten sense of self-awareness.  She knows what she wants and needs; and she focuses her energy toward getting those wants and needs met.  In short, she takes on the responsibility of taking care of herself.

And, to be a well-adjusted and healthy person, shouldn’t we all be aware of what we need and want?  If we don’t take care of ourselves, how would we have the energy and ability to take care of others?  And who should take on the responsibility of caring for ourselves, if it’s not us?  

Aren’t we responsible for our own happiness?

So, where do we draw the line between supporting a healthy self-image and being a narcissist?

In answering that question for myself, I came across the article, “How to Spot a Narcissist.” by Samuel López De Victoria, Ph.D.  In his article, he makes a definite distinction between a “healthy narcissist” and an “extreme narcissist.”  

As with everything else, we have to strike a balance.  We all have to have some amount of narcissism in our nature.  This is what defines our personal preferences, aspirations, and needs, and propels us to success — in however we define success. 

To support a healthy sense of self, we must respect and honor our needs as much as we respect and honor the needs of others.

In the case of an extreme narcissist, the healthy sense of self has morphed into an inflated sense of self-importance and an extreme preoccupation with one’s self — to the exclusion and detachment of others.  When this happens, the person is considered to have a Narcissistic Personality Disorder. 

In this personality disorder, narcissism takes on the form of “being totally absorbed in self.”  The person is the center of his or her own universe — eventually cutting others off and becoming emotionally isolated. 

To an extreme narcissist, you are an object to be used.  Once he or she no longer has use for you, you are no longer desired, wanted, or sought.  The narcissist will cut you off — identifying you as an untrustworthy person who can harm the narcissist.

Although the causes of this disorder are largely unknown, some believe that they arise from children who were over-indulged and spoiled — and from children who experienced conditional love based on performance criteria (e.g., strict parents giving praise only for good grades will raise a child who learns not to trust anyone but himself for emotional soothing).

Dr. López De Victoria’s view is that Narcissistic Personality Disorder “usually starts with a significant emotional wound or series of them culminating in a major trauma of separation/attachment…. The extreme narcissist is frozen in childhood.”

The trauma was so shattering that it essentially killed these people emotionally.  To protect themselves from any further hurt, extreme narcissists will isolate themselves from emotional and relational contact. They’ll construct protective barriers that’ll keep the external world of people away from them.  They believe that all people are harmful and untrustworthy. 

What causes of Narcissistic Personality Disorder may be unclear, but its symptoms are pretty clear.  They include:

• Reacting to criticism with rage, shame, or humiliation
• Taking advantage of other people to achieve his or her own goals
• Having excessive feelings of self-importance and obsessive self-interest
• Exaggerating achievements and talents
• Being preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, intelligence, or ideal love
• Needing constant attention and admiration
• Disregarding the feelings of others and having little ability to feel empathy
• Pursuing mainly selfish goals

After reviewing this list, it becomes clear to me where the line is drawn between supporting a healthy self-image and being an extreme narcissist.

It’s how we view and treat others.  Do we respect and honor others as much as we do ourselves?

If the answer is, No — then we’ve crossed that line.

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Why Does Every Encounter Have to End As a Power Struggle?

Warning!!  Venting Zone Ahead!

Thank goodness I have Friday off.  It’s the beginning of the week, and I’m already fed up with the office for the week! 

My main frustration regarding the “professional" (?) work environment — in which I spend 50 hours a week — is the fact that those working there don’t respect each other.  They don’t have the attitude of working together… of collaboration… of supporting cooperation… of sustaining healthy relationships with one another.

Why does every encounter have to turn into a power struggle around here?  

Why can’t a person have a pleasant conversation with someone in the kitchen, without being reprimanded for it? 

Why are employees so focused on covering their butts, instead of focused on working together to come up with solutions?

Yeah… I’m frustrated…

All of this goes against my core value system.  I don’t like being a part of a company that has avoiding responsibility, bullying, and blaming others running freely through its vein-like corridors.  

People go around assuming the worst of others, jumping to negative conclusions, and accusing others instead of accepting the consequences of their own actions.  

This behavior is practiced and encouraged by the Head of the division; therefore, it’s understandable why this type of behavior permeates throughout the workplace. 

When I complain, they simply shrug.  If you don’t like the office politics, you’re welcome to leave.  You’re expendable… replaceable… disposable…

The saddest part is that if/when I do leave, I’ll find that the next place will be the same or even worse…

Yeah… Friday’s not coming soon enough for me…

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Wake-up Call

I was in the break room, in the early morning hours, when one of the supervisors came in.  I can’t say that she’s the most pleasant person on the floor, but she did manage to mumble, “Good Morning.” 

I mumbled back something very positive — something like:  “I’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Now, that comment — this early in the morning — usually brings agreement and a light chuckle from the other person.  Let’s face it.  Most of us would rather be ANYWHERE else but at work, so early in the morning…

Today, I learned that “most of us” is not “all of us.”

Nope.  This supervisor’s response was:  “Well, I’d thought all your outside activities created enough distractions for you.”

What she said (and the way she said it) was a bit odd — as if she believed that the main purpose of life is to live and breathe for the company… and “the other stuff” people do “away from the office” are simply fluffy distractions…

At first, I was slightly irritated.  I don’t feel any part of my life to be a distraction.  Every part has purpose… even the mundane part that is spent at the office.  I go to work and provide a service, for which I get paid, so I can live my life comfortably and completely.  Simply put:  I work to live and not live to work.

That’s when I had to remind myself of the difference between this supervisor and me.  Definitely, her existence revolves around her job.  She is defined — and sealed in — by her position.  She spends her days in her office, not interacting with others.  She feels that the more work she generates, the more valuable she is to her boss.  With this in mind, she designs more work for herself — and everyone working for her — than is needed to get the original task completed.  Because of that, she finds it necessary to take work home every night and weekend.  Even working these extra hours, she finds herself behind in her work — missing deadlines and making mistakes.  Her reward for all of this is to be disrespected and discounted by her boss. 

It’s sad to watch, because it’s obvious that she puts her heart and soul into her job, and none of it is appreciated… if noticed at all.  This causes her to walk around in a constant state of… numbness.

Yeah, I can see how — to her — my outside activities can be seen as distractions — and even interference — to her disciplined definition of existence. 

And, I guess she’s right.  If I lived to work, I’d probably be more like her…and be satisfied with simply existing.

But I don’t see that happening any time soon.  I’m having too much fun exploring the art of living…

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Safe People

I just ran into this term and its definition, and I really like it.

"Safe People: People who draw you closer to who you were meant to be spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically. They encourage you to be your most loving, growing self."

Wouldn’t that be awesome — to be defined as a safe person by others?!

It makes me think about how lucky I am to have a number of safe people surrounding me.

Just think how different the world would be, if everyone was surrounded by safe people and was a safe person for others? 

I can't imagine anything better than that.  Can you? 

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It’s No Wonder!

My day job is with a company that publishes educational materials for professionals.  My division deals with accounting, auditing, business consultation, governmental accounting, and tax accounting — and a bunch of other boring subjects dealing with figures, regulations, and calculations.   

Today, we received an unusual customer complaint.  An accountant said that our forensic accounting supplemental video was offensive.

Two things surprised me: 
  

• First, someone actually watched one of our boring accounting videos.  
• Second, that person found the forensic accounting material offensive.

Because this accountant wasn’t specific in detailing the complaint, we couldn’t really address whatever the problem was.  All we could do was pass on the customer's comments to the forensic investigator who created and presented the material in the video. 

But the incident does remind us that we initially come to each other as strangers… with individual expectations and personal history.  We bring along our insecurities and fears, our bias and prejudices, our judgments and righteousness, and our preconceived notions and half-truths.

With all of this going on, it’s no wonder that it’s impossible to satisfy everyone and just as impossible not to offend someone along the way — no matter how hard we try... and no matter what subject we're discussing.  

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Peer Pressure Works Both Ways

The first year on the job, I was told of the company’s fancy Holiday Party.   I was warned that there would be a lot of loud music, a lot of drinking, and a lot of embarrassing — boarding on blackmail-worthy — behavior at the party.  I was also told that — to make sure employees attended — the company made important HR announcements at this company function. 

I don’t drink nor am I comfortable in large, loud, and fancy social gatherings like this one — so, there’s nothing at this party that was appealing to me—but I felt pressured to go… because it was expected of me. 

Because I didn’t want to go — but felt pressured to go — an internal conflict was created within me.  I was full of anxiety and angst about this event.  I was in a panic about what to wear, what to do at the party, how to act, who to sit with, how long to stay… and the list went on and on. 

Yes, the first year with the company, I went to its fancy Holiday Party.  I did not have a good time.

The second year with the company, I did the same thing.  I let my co-workers and supervisors pressure me into going to the Holiday Party, spending hours of my free time wishing that I was someplace else other than “at work.”  I felt the same anxiety and angst over the event as before—and, as before, I did not have a good time.

Luckily, in the third year, the company party fell on a night that I couldn’t attend, and I sent my regrets, instead.  There was no anxiety or angst!  I simply couldn’t go — and I felt so free! 

What was the fallout for not attending a company function of this magnitude?  Nothing, really…

Yes, there was talk about what I missed at the party the next day, and my supervisor updated me on the HR announcements, but that was about it.  There was no Act of God that destroyed my little piece of the world.  The world didn’t stop revolving on its axis.  I was still employed.    

Freedom tasted so good that year that for the fourth year — and every year thereafter — I simply sent in my regrets that I wasn’t attending.   

When asked why I wasn’t attending, I’d answer truthfully.  I went a couple a times and simply didn’t enjoy myself.  That response always got an interesting reaction.  Those asking would agree with me.  They didn’t like going either, but they felt pressured to go…  They never felt that they could say, “No thanks,” without dealing with negative consequences from their superiors. 

But the next year, they joined me in sending their regrets... and guess what?

There was no Act of God that destroyed their little piece of the world.  The world didn’t stop revolving on its axis.  They were still employed. 

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