Bleak week
I've been distracted all week by a "situation" that is developing that I can't really talk about here, involving a friend and an organization to which I hold some fiduciary and legal responsibility. Basically, my friend is about to get fired and there doesn't appear to be much I can do about it, except to make a huge fuss at a meeting next week and try to win at least half of the group over to my point of view, which I doubt I will be able to do.
The worst part of it, for me, is having to go along with a process I think is – well, maybe not really "wrong," since I know it's just how business is done and that there are reasons for that – but, well, yeah, I do think it's wrong. It's wrong in this situation. This person deserves better. I'm angry and conflicted and want to run away or resign in protest, which I know won't do any good.
I keep telling myself: the way I'm feeling in this situation is exactly why I do my meditation practice or whatever the hell it is that I do these days – so that when things like this happen, I can stay calm and present, and not spin out into my old habit of turning everything that happens into a great big drama. So I can see clearly what is happening, and act. But man. It sure feels like drama to me.
In my mind, this meeting on Monday is taking on the proportions of a genuine wild western showdown. My feet (clad in embarrassingly new cowboy boots, which look great, by the way, thank you) appear at the end of a long, dusty street. At the other end, the rest of the posse. My old posse, that is now totally against me. We face off. I state my case. I bang the gavel and demand, in the name of all that is decent, that they do what is right – not what is politically or financially expedient. Then I swing my friend up onto the back of my white horse and we gallop off into the woods with our velvet capes sailing out behind us, golden crowns sparkling in the sun ....
Many possible scenarios are playing through my brain right now. All I know for sure is that of the twelve or so people in the room on Monday night, I'm the only one who thinks we're moving too fast, and that the proposal we're considering, as it stands, is not right. But I only get one vote.
So that's why I'm not writing. I'm frying other fish right now. Confidential fish.
It wasn't that long ago that I realized that not every important thing that happens in a person's life has to be inflated to the status of real live bona fide Drama with a capital D. Passion for life, and enjoyment, and even excitement, are not the same as Drama, which distorts your view of what's happening and prevents you from participating effectively in your own life. The events of this week are reminding me how much I really don't need this kind of Drama anymore. I don't like it, and I don't want it.
The feelings I'm feeling this week – I used to feel this way a lot. Not so much anymore. Revisiting this emotional landscape feels like a big step back.
The worst part of it, for me, is having to go along with a process I think is – well, maybe not really "wrong," since I know it's just how business is done and that there are reasons for that – but, well, yeah, I do think it's wrong. It's wrong in this situation. This person deserves better. I'm angry and conflicted and want to run away or resign in protest, which I know won't do any good.
I keep telling myself: the way I'm feeling in this situation is exactly why I do my meditation practice or whatever the hell it is that I do these days – so that when things like this happen, I can stay calm and present, and not spin out into my old habit of turning everything that happens into a great big drama. So I can see clearly what is happening, and act. But man. It sure feels like drama to me.
In my mind, this meeting on Monday is taking on the proportions of a genuine wild western showdown. My feet (clad in embarrassingly new cowboy boots, which look great, by the way, thank you) appear at the end of a long, dusty street. At the other end, the rest of the posse. My old posse, that is now totally against me. We face off. I state my case. I bang the gavel and demand, in the name of all that is decent, that they do what is right – not what is politically or financially expedient. Then I swing my friend up onto the back of my white horse and we gallop off into the woods with our velvet capes sailing out behind us, golden crowns sparkling in the sun ....
Many possible scenarios are playing through my brain right now. All I know for sure is that of the twelve or so people in the room on Monday night, I'm the only one who thinks we're moving too fast, and that the proposal we're considering, as it stands, is not right. But I only get one vote.
So that's why I'm not writing. I'm frying other fish right now. Confidential fish.
It wasn't that long ago that I realized that not every important thing that happens in a person's life has to be inflated to the status of real live bona fide Drama with a capital D. Passion for life, and enjoyment, and even excitement, are not the same as Drama, which distorts your view of what's happening and prevents you from participating effectively in your own life. The events of this week are reminding me how much I really don't need this kind of Drama anymore. I don't like it, and I don't want it.
The feelings I'm feeling this week – I used to feel this way a lot. Not so much anymore. Revisiting this emotional landscape feels like a big step back.
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