Personal Reflections

The pettiness principle

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I learned last week that one of the bosses where I work had just lost the man she had been with for years. A day or so after that, there was a sympathy card circulating for people to sign, and they were taking donations for Forgotten Felines, which was a cause the man who passed had supported.

I was going to sign the card right when I got there that morning, but someone else was signing it and people were standing around talking, so I decided to get it later. A few minutes later,  the person who was keeping the card at her desk, gave me a heads up.

It seemed there were a few people who felt that one shouldn’t sign the card if they don’t make a donation.  I just said, “wow.” My coworker said, “Yeah, tell me about it.”  I hadn’t thought too much about donating, but I probably would have done it. But now, it seemed like some were trying to force it, or was it about who gets credit for the money collected? Who knows?

My thought was to get my own card and give it to my boss and forgo the donation, or give independently online rather than giving it at work.  I was actually going to do that. You know, on principle. To stand up to the tyranny of the petty ones.  Then I saw the light.

Would that not make me as petty as they? I’ve been getting fed up with some people that work there, but perhaps this was not the time to revolt. Choose your battles, right? I gave a few bucks to the cause (that’s all I had with me), and I signed the card.

No big deal.  For me.  But my  boss was dealing with a real issue, the loss of a loved one. It’s amazing how you can get caught up in the peripheral issues and forget the important one.

It’s also very easy to get dragged down to the level of those who want to complain and play tit for tat. It’s not fair if they keep getting away with it, one might say. Someone has to do something, put them in their place. The problem is, you end up in the midst of a continual game of action and reaction, insult and retaliation, animosity and resentment.

I’d rather continue as I have been, staying out of it, not letting it bother me, and try to treat everyone with respect and amicability. It’s been working for me so far. I get along with nearly everyone, and if not, I don’t lose any sleep. It’s their problem.

I think it’s a good approach, as long as it doesn’t become a case of being afraid of conflict or trying to please everyone. If a person says something racist or personally insulting to another, for example, and you witness it, then that’s different.

The real loss here is that people spend so much time and energy complaining and making things difficult for each other, instead of working together, solving problems, sharing insights, and all that good stuff. Things that we can do to help each other and make the work day more pleasant, instead of creating and feeding an oppressive or gloomy atmosphere.

Don’t they know? (I haven’t said it for a while.) We’re all in this together.

I’ve said it before. There’s whole worlds to discover in the lives of the people around us. Go exploring!

What might have been, pt.2

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Continuing from yesterday:

I worked at McDonald’s my junior and senior years. My class rank (out of about 200) went from 4th in my freshmen year to not even ranked my senior year. I always resented that I had to work while others didn’t and pulled way ahead of me academically.  Of course, some of the top ten must have worked. I probably just wasn’t aware of it. It’s a self pity thing.

Then there’s the social life in junior and senior high. (We didn’t have middle school in Bangor at that time.) I had a couple of friends that I did things with some weekends before I worked. Once I started working, I didn’t have much of a life at all.

I did meet my only girlfriend of my adolescence when people at McDonald’s set us up. It didn’t last long. We made a cute couple but had little in common. There was also the constant anxiety, and on top of that, being gay but not being fully aware of it.  And, while there was opportunity, the short-lived romance did not include any physical relations.

My anxiety was probably compounded by the deeply buried truth of my sexual orientation and the fear of facing it. So, I “opted out” of dating to avoid feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps work wasn’t just about the needed money. It also gave me an escape from the social situations I both craved and feared.

I commuted to a nearby university after high school for 3 semesters. I changed my major in that short time, but still had no clue what I was doing or where I was going. I took time off to figure things out. I sometimes wonder if going away to school would have forced me to adapt and “catch up” emotionally and socially with other people my age, and find direction. I could also have had a nervous break down. Only God knows.

In the meantime, I left McDonald’s, of which I had been sick and tired for quite a while. After an unsuccessful search, I wound up working a small amount of hours at the hardware store where my dad worked for years, then wound up delivering pizzas. I became the manager of the privately owned pizza and sub shop when the former manager was caught stealing money.

I got my associate’s degree from community college while working there, but was too burned out to go right on to more college. Months turned into years and I never did get that bachelor’s degree. Another regret.

It was when I finally got out of the pizza shop to a Mon. through Fri. job that I finally started to see a lot of these things to which I was oblivious to that point. It was a mundane repetitive job and I had a lot of time to think and listen to talk radio. I finally saw the light about my bipolar depression and anxiety. Then I saw a shrink. And it was good.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what might have been. It matters what is yet to come. Besides, who’s to say things would have been so great if I’d have had more support, or privilege or popularity. Maybe it would have just caused more stress and anxiety.

I’m a stronger and more well-balanced person and a more insightful writer. I’m more spiritual and grounded. I don’t know what may yet be, but knowing where I’ve been, and being ok with it all, clears the way for good things to happen.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Well, I’m here. Bring it on, future. I’m ready.

 

What might have been, pt.1

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I film newspapers for preservation on microfilm at my job. I’m currently working on a project from Missouri which includes various titles (newspapers) from pretty much every county in the state. Most of them small town or rural areas. The batch I’m working on is all recent dates. I have to move quickly, but one catches headlines and photos while filming.

There were a lot of high school sports, band events, concerts and such in many titles and issues, especially one I worked on yesterday. It made me start thinking about my own high school years and even earlier childhood.

I thought about how different my life could have been if I had been good at, or even interested in sports. I was popular for the first couple years in grade school, but when the other boys started joining Farm Team (baseball, if you don’t have that where you’re from) and playing kickball at recess, I stayed away. I think it was my anxiety that made me not want to give them a try. Or, maybe it was because my dad never played ball with my brother or me. I feel like I’m kind of whining now, but it’s true, I guess.

Also, no encouragement from either parent. to join in athletic endeavors or try different things. As mentioned in a previous post, I didn’t even learn to swim. That left me out of a lot of time that could have been spent with other kids in the summer. I remember feeling so lonely in the sunny days of August after a couple months of limited contact with others. I did see my best friend about every day, but somehow, it wasn’t enough.

I can remember my fifth grade teacher trying to get me to join wrestling. He must have seen that it would do me good, and as a short but scrappy kid, it probably would have been good. He pleaded with me over and over to join, but I didn’t even think about it. I just thought that was for other boys. I was no good at that sort of thing.  I can only imagine how different my life might have been if I had joined in all the “normal” activities.

So, that left me with academics and arts.

I was an excellent student and played clarinet in concert, jazz and marching band. I had perfect pitch, but lacked dexterity. I could never seem to get the fast parts down. In retrospect, I don’t know why I stayed in band the whole time, except that I made some really good friends and a lot of acquaintances that I wouldn’t have known otherwise. That was very important for a shy, anxious, depressed, fatigued misfit.

Still, I wish I had stayed in photography club my junior year instead of joining jazz band at the band director’s suggestion. I’m pretty good at photography and had gotten a nice 35mm camera over the summer with my McD’s money. Developing (pardon the pun) that skill would have been far more valuable.

I could’ve used some guidance, but I didn’t get that from home  or school. But then, I really didn’t share my thoughts or decision-making with anyone. Actually, I didn’t really think about things. I just stumbled along doing what I thought was expected of me and looking for acceptance.

 

I’m going to wrap this up tomorrow. Trust me, it’s going somewhere, somewhere good. I’m happy with how things are going now.

Til next time.