5 Things I’m Thankful For (In the Midst of Winter’s Gloom)

This blog has been discontinued due to amoeba brain.

Hello Friends, yes it’s been that kind of winter. 🙂 For the few weeks (forever, it seems) I’ve been in survival mode, my brain descending into ever deepening layers of slush, reduced to basic functions such as watching TV and scrounging for salty, fatty snacks.

Even running has lost it’s appeal. I continue due to doctor’s orders. ‘You must not let up on the running. It will be the best therapy’ he said. What if I’m reduced to ugly crying because my easy 5K has become an insurmountable task?

It’s time for a pattern interrupt, a jolt of positivity. So, here are five things I’m thankful for.

Work and Fantastic Coworkers

The doctor asked, “Have you been missing work?”

“No, I find it easiest to concentrate there.”

Strange but true. It’s easiest to leave my raincloud behind when I go to work, partially because I have one focused task at a time, and part because of great coworkers who are so crazy they make me feel sane laugh and joke and make me happy. There are crazy conversations about stuffing people into barrels and feeding them spray cheese with one coworker. Another coworker lovingly, and in a motherly sort of way, pinches and slaps me when she passes me in the hall. I told my sister about how at the end of a long shift, I wrapped my arm around this coworker, and she wrapped her arm around me, and we walked off the manufacturing floor together.

“That would never happen at my work,” she said.

A Neverending Supply of Folk Music

Thanks to Spotify, of course.

This song, with it’s sublime string introduction, is one of my favourites right now. I’ve sung, whistled and hummed it almost every day for, I don’t know, weeks? It also serves as a romantic theme in the series I’m currently writing.

Damien Rice: I Don’t Want to Change You

 Winter Running

Despite recent bad, bad runs, I’ve enjoyed running outside this winter. I was a big chicken, and ran on the treadmill for November and December. But soon I got very bored and started staring out at the snow and sunshine, saying, “It’s not THAT cold, is it?”

Cue trips to Walmart to find makeshift winter running gear. The proper stuff is far to expensive, even if it is really pretty… (sigh).

In my grape Kool-aid purple jacket and three layers of pants, out I go to slog where no runner has ever slogged before. I’ll stop when I can’t feel my legs anymore.

Sermon Podcasts and Other Audios

Because sometimes I need help to shut up the voices in my head. An outside voice speaking truth and inspiration can pattern interrupt long enough to reboot my brain and stop the negative thoughts for a while. The church I attend records and podcasts their sermons, so during the week I can listen to them again. LIFE leadership audios are also excellent.

And… Summer!

You know, it always comes back. It always does.

Things We Suck Happiness From

Coffee addicts know that tea is no substitute for the ‘real thing.’ After six days without that rich, brown nectar of heaven, I know this for sure. I don’t know how much caffeine tea has in it, but not enough to stave off the headache and muscle ache of withdrawal.

Poor me. 😉 I’m sure going to enjoy my big cup of coffee tomorrow.

Last week I talked about how I’d given up TV for the majority of the month as a way to purge clutter from my life. This week, I added coffee to the list of banned things. When you start to equate a good cup of coffee with true happiness, it’s probably time.

It wasn’t long before I regretted it.

When I work day shift, every evening is scheduled for an appointment, or spent frantically cleaning, cooking, doing laundry and trying to get my writing done. As a homebody, I don’t like these weeks. I just want to be at home in front of my laptop… with coffee. I was sick with a cold this week. I also had a lot on my mind–mostly stuff I can’t go into. While normally I can deal with the stressful schedule at work, this week I often developed shortness of breath and chest pain by the end of the day.

Normally I’d go home, sit in my easy chair with a cup of coffee and watch a few mindless YouTube videos. During the day, I sometimes hold out that chair and coffee mug like the proverbial carrot in front of the donkey. “Just a little farther, and then you can have it.” But this week I’d get home tired, sick and weepy and none of my ‘medication’ would be there.

I grew up thinking that people with real problems used alcohol and drugs to numb their pain. It’s become uncomfortably obvious that most people have their ways of self-medication, inane, ‘harmless’ things to make them feel better. It’s not bad to drink coffee, or watch TV, or drink a glass of wine. But many souls like me use these things like patches instead of facing the real issues.

Then, when we take away our crutches, we fall. We’re sad. A girl I know talked about how sad she was when she gave up sugar and sweets for the month. It was her birthday, and she couldn’t have cake, and she was depressed. You can also observe how upset people get when the weather is rainy in the summer, or frigid in the winter. Are we really basing our happiness on externals like that? Yes, that is the primary way humans attempt to bring happiness into their lives.

What is the alternative? I would posit two–with the caveat that I’m just trying to figure this out myself.

Chris Brady said, “To be happy, you’ve got to give happy.” That is to say that when we’re feeling low, we need to take our eyes off ourselves and bring happiness to others.

Second, we need a solid internal constitution, or foundation of principles to fall back on when our externals fail us. What is our anchor?

Personally, I need to learn to seek out Jesus as my friend, constant companion and life giver. There is no switch I can flip to learn that, but in the bleakness of the workweek, there were sweet moments when I paced back and forth in front of my coating pan or crashed in my comfy chair and prayed. Even if what I prayed was pathetic things like “make me happy, pleaaase.” 🙂

Pain and Gain: A Canoe Story

What can a canoe portage teach us about New Year’s resolutions?

it was a muggy August day. Above us, grey rain clouds had blocked out the sun and left us to the sticky heat and the mosquitos.  We’d spent the weekend with a troop of teens, camped on a tiny island in the middle of Mud Turtle lake. Now my cousin Starr and I, the two female chaperones, pulled our canoe up on the far shore for the return trip.  But first, we had to make the one kilometre portage to the next lake.  Across that lake was where our vehicles–where civilization–was.

We were eight canoes, and the strong young men had enough to carry without the extra burden of our canoe.  I looked at Starr. “I’ll carry it.”

We’d portaged it halfway on the trip into Mud Turtle before one of the guys had taken pity on us. This time I wanted to go the distance. Our guides had coached us how to arrange our backpack as a platform the canoe could rest on. I’d prepared my pack for that purpose. So I shouldered my hiking pack and Starr helped me lift the canoe. They were cheap, fibre glass canoes–heavy to carry and hard to steer.  I staggered a little as my backpack bit into my shoulders.  Behind me, Starr hefted her pack, plus my extra baggage.  We started walking.

I forged ahead like a beetle, the canoe on top of me like a shell.  The point of the canoe shoved through the undergrowth as my feet navigated the narrow, climbing trail. I had already been sweating, now it poured down my back.  One of the guys passed me with his canoe over his head like it weighed nothing.

“Are you okay?” Starr asked behind me. The pots and pans she carried rattled together.

“Yeah,” I gasped.

A third of the way down the trail I stumbled.  Off balance, I dropped the canoe into the short bushes beside the trial. I groaned and rubbed at my shoulders.  My brother came alongside. “Do you want me to take it?”

“No!”

He helped me pick it up, and I began to walk again.

My shoulders were in agony.  The backpack was carrying the full weigh of the canoe, and transferring it through the straps into my tender flesh. I balanced the canoe with upraised arms, but they were turning to mush.

Two-thirds across, I heard my little brother’s voice.  “I can take it the rest of the way.”

But I was almost there, and I knew it.  “No!” I grunted, “If you take in now I’ll have all the pain and none of the reward.”

So I carried that canoe until I finally saw the silver water of Brereton Lake.  The path turned into a steep descent toward the water. Finally, I dropped the canoe. I’d done it.

All Pain, No Gain

My back was stiff and sore for days, and my shoulders were purple with bruises.  But that’s not what I remember. It’s that phrase: “I’ll have all the pain and none of the reward.”  Whatever pain-stricken, divine inspiration it came from, it stuck with me.

“It hurts. I’m tired,” I say in the fifth mile of my 10K.  “No, you’re too close!” If I quit, I get all the pain and none of the reward. Same thing goes with other challenges. Like at my job, I’ve went through a few season mistakes and lost confidence as I strained to learn and pushed myself too far. “Quit” came to mind. But I’d already had so much stress, and learned so much. If I quit, I’d get no reward. Eventually I overcame my challenges, and gained new influence and skill because of it.

Learn What Kind of Pain it is

Pain is a warning sign. It can’t be denied that if you are in pain, be it mental or physical, you are ‘red lining’. You’re nearing full capacity, and it may be time to back off.

Part of learning to run has been learning to discern what is just stiffness that will pass, and what is the early onset of an injury. For instance, I find that in the first couple miles my legs will be vaguely sore and I’m tempted to say, “This sucks. This hurts.” But by now I know that it will pass as the runner’s high takes over.

I’ve made some mistakes, such as running with a lung virus or pushing myself too hard on a pre-work run, and being sick during my shift. I ran with patellofemoral syndrome much longer than necessary, because I didn’t know something was actually wrong and that it could be fixed easily enough. A coach might have prevented much of this.

So I’m not telling you to be reckless.  But if you resolved to get in shape this year, and you’ve been hitting the gym, you are probably in the ‘all pain, no gain’ stage. Well suck it up, buttercup. If you don’t, you’ll have gone through all that pain for nothing. Give it a few weeks, and it will get better. Two weeks isn’t that long in the scope of things. And then you’ll also have increased flexibility, strength, weight-loss and mental sharpness. Do you really want to succeed? There is no magic bullet. You have to put in the time and endure the pain.

Is the pain worth the gain? Then don’t drop the canoe.

How to Make People Talk

I am told I would make a good interrogator.

The other evening, midway through a long shift at the factory, I joined a conversation between coworkers including one, rather eccentric, Russian gentleman.  “I didn’t realize this, but so and so can really talk,” one said, “He came to my house to borrow something, and he wouldn’t shut up.”

“It’s often like that. You wouldn’t suspect [my trainee] of being talkative,” I interposed, “But if you ask him about cricket, he’ll talk for an hour.”

“Cricket?  Like the game?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I like finding out what people like to talk about and then getting them going on the subject. You can learn so much.”

“Thats just what the KGB do,” the Russian gentleman said.

I stared at him.

“They get you talking about what you’re interested in, and before you know it you’re telling them everything.”

“That’s not why I do it!” I said in great alarm, “I do it because I’m genuinely interested in them.”

“But that’s what they do,” he insisted, “They interviewed me once.  They’d seen my school files.  They knew I like the sciences so they tried to get me talking about that.” He then launched into a diatribe on Einstein’s theories of relativity, and I was ready to listen attentively, but a coworker interrupted with a question for me.  That was the end of that.

Half an hour later, my coworker and I were sitting in our process room with the tablet coater running and nothing to do but monitor it. I had asked my coworker, a recent immigrant from India, about his native languages and how the looked written.  He proceeded to provide examples.

I had a view of the windows.  As I nodded and asked questions, the Russian fellow walked past.  He stopped and grinned at me.  Then he made wringing motions with his hands.

I giggled, and then had to explain the whole thing to my coworker.

It isn’t a psychological technique for me.  I don’t know any better way of gaining trust and building rapport, especially with someone whom I don’t naturally relate to.  As a trainer, I need the trust of my trainee–both to accept my teaching, and also to like me.  We spend a lot of time together. We might as well be friends.

Dale Carnegie said, “So if you aspire to be a good conversationalist, be an attentive listener. To be interesting, be interested. Ask questions that other persons will enjoy answering. Encourage them to talk about themselves and their accomplishments.”

The Week Without Running

This week I took my second sick day of the year, and the third of my lifetime.  Yes, I consider myself to be indestructible, and when I do get sick I go to work anyway.

Last Saturday I woke up with burning lungs, like the feeling you get after you’ve inhaled caustic cleaner (been there, done that).  “No!” I said, “I can’t be sick.  I have a 5K.”  Cue browsing articles on ‘should you run while sick,’ of which there was no unanimous conclusion.  So, I said ‘to heck with it,’ went to the drugstore and bought the highest-powered lozenges I could find.  Back in the car, I popped one in my mouth.

My tongue went numb.

“What the heck is in these things?”  I flipped over the box.  Hmm, Benzocaine.  Isn’t that what they use to freeze your mouth at the dentist?

Well, you don’t need to feel your tongue to run.  So off I went to the race.

I almost burned out in the last mile.  My lungs hurt so bad, and I had to force my oxygen-deprived muscles to keep firing.  My time was lackluster, but I made it.

Monday, I went running again.  Tuesday I was still sick, and on Wednesday I was dragging myself around work like a zombie.  I decided to call it a day and go to the walk-in clinic.  Chest X-rays and EKG’s and blood work couldn’t tell the doctor what was wrong with me.  “You have a virus,” he said.

I could have told myself that.  At least I wasn’t dying.  I’d already been imagining the end of my running ‘career’ because I had scarring of the lungs, or a hole in my heart, or something (just making up stuff, here).

So this week has been one of extra sleep, extra writing, and extra Harry Potter watching.  After much self-lecturing, I’ve decided I’m sick.  No speed-work midweek.  No long run on the weekend.  I’m getting antsy.  Based on the way my chest feels right now, I might collapse midway.  But it’s autumn in Manitoba, and that means six months of winter are almost here, and if I don’t enjoy the snow-free roads now, I won’t get to!

Argh.

Someone tie me down, or hide my sneakers.

What if We Asked These Questions?

Does anyone ask you the questions you desperately want to answer?

People ask me all kinds of things, but rarely am I asked about what really matters to me.  These are the things I want to talk about, and truly be listened to.  In the presence of my friends and family I talk about them, unasked.  But I feel that they don’t want to hear about it.

Do you feel this way too?

I want to be asked.

I want to be asked “What have you been doing at work lately?”

Silly, right?  People ask “how is work?” all the time.  But that’s the sort of question you’re required to answer ‘fine’ to, or ‘busy’.  Maybe they’d accept a long answer, but I get the distinct feeling that if I went on a five minute rant about the product I was coating that week, and what went wrong, and about how I nailed that one coat to the exact percentage, their eyes would glaze over.

I want to be asked “How were your runs this week?”

I’d love you forever if you’d listen to me talk about running Abe’s Hill for the first time, and my 5k on the weekend–and then ask “then what happened?” like you mean it.

I want to be asked “What are you reading these days?”

Plato–The Republic, and Lord of the Rings.  Ask me about Plato, and why I’d even pick it up.  Ask me about what I’m learning from those books.  Gosh, look at the size of the three-in-one volume of Lord of the Rings.  Doesn’t it just beg to start a conversation?

Ask me about my writing projects and don’t look too shocked when my eyes light up and I expound on clones, and the archetypal city, and the righteous poor, and the adventures of some ‘made up’ character.

The problem is…

The problem is that I don’t ask the right questions either.  If I were observant, and not all wrapped up in myself like I tend to be, I might know the right questions to ask YOU.  The questions that make your face light up like a Christmas tree.  The ones you can deliver a spontaneous fifteen minute lecture on.

I stumbled across one of these questions by accident, this summer.  I’d had difficulty connecting with a coworker, a gentleman from Bangladesh, until one day I asked him “Are you following the FIFA World Cup?”

Yes!  Yes he was.  He was following Argentina.  He’d followed Messi since the soccer star was a much younger man.  He (my coworker) had actually played soccer in college.  And off we went–because college led to discussions about our families, and once you start talking about your families you have lots to go on.

I began checking the World Cup stats every morning so I’d have something to say to him when we passed in the hall.

Doubtless, asking a good question won’t always have the same success.  But I’ll warrant that if I’d regularly pose purposeful questions, I’d often stumble on good answers, perhaps even on a new friend.  But this won’t happen if I’m not looking, using Sherlock Holmes powers of observation to discover what makes people tick.

I’m not good at that, I admit.  But I realize now that I can’t make people take a genuine interest in me.  All I can do is provide that loving courtesy to others, because I truly believe that to listen is to grant deep respect and honour to another.  We need to be listened to.  It is psychological oxygen, to borrow from Dale Carnegie.

What to ask?

So tell me.  What do you want to be asked?  What is that thing, buried deep in your chest, that you NEED to talk about?

I WANT to ask.  Forgive me if I forget to look.

 

 

 

Not a Moment to Waste!

“I’m afraid to die before I’ve really lived,” he said.

Funny the things you talk about on late shifts.  We stood over our tank of coating suspension, the peristaltic pump chugging the soupy, white mixture from one tank to the other.  I don’t know why we were talking about death–death by drowning, death by fire.

I paused.  In my hand, the hose bucked and splattered goop on the shiny steel receiving tank.  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”  But in my head I thought, but how do you know that you’ve really lived?  As I thought over my twenty-four years, I realized that I’d packed lots into them.  I’ve travelled, I’ve graduated from college, I’ve written a book.  But had I really lived?

A couple weeks later, a school friend’s nineteen year old brother died in a drowning accident, and it brought the subject back to my mind.  My own brothers were going out to the lake, and inwardly I shouted don’t go!  I want to keep you here!

I suspect that the years we have are never enough once they’re gone.  I had twelve happy years with my Grandma (Mom’s mom) before she died of cancer.  But when I think about her I remember that, the last day I saw her healthy and alert, I spent playing video games.  Would that one more day have been enough?  No.

It annoys me that people say “Two more days until Friday.”  When I catch myself saying “My shift is half over,” I rebuke myself.  Heck, we spend tens of thousands of hours at our jobs, but we’re so eager to just get them over with.  My Grandma (Dad’s mom) told me, today, that the older you get, the faster they go.  It’s like being pinned to a railway car, flying downhill toward a brick wall (she didn’t say that–I did).  But we are unmindful.  We try to make our railcar go faster!

What are the chances we get to the end of our lives and decide we’ve ‘really lived’?

I’m realizing that I need to be a heck of a lot more deliberate with my time.  I’ve got to dream, then make goals, and then work my butt off before my railcar reaches the bottom of the hill.

Dan Waldschidmt said “We all want that extra 6.25 years of conquest.  But when we have a zillion minute by minute considerations just to decide whether to stay in bed or get up and ‘conquer,’ most of us choose comfort.  It seems small at the time–after all, it’s just one hour.  But the results are life changing.  Literally.  The decisions that you make hundreds of times a day build your future.  They all count.”

I’m not doing well in this area right now.  After the release of We are the Living, I hit a big-time slump.  I’ve yet to pull out entirely.  My blogging has been sporadic.  I have little interest in social networking.  I don’t feel like writing.  My new project has been neglected for days at a time.

It’s time to kick my own butt.  If I can make myself go running after an exhausting workday, when my knees hurt, or when it’s cold and raining, I guess I can make myself write (do what I love!).

There isn’t a moment to waste, is there?

 

10 Things I’m Thankful For

In a few hours it will be my birthday.

I’ve been absent from the blogosphere this week, due to the pendulum swing of my schedule.  While on day shifts, I try to make up for the lack of social life while I’m working evenings.  My brain has been packed, and much of what I’ve come up with to write is so snarky I don’t dare infect you with it.

So, in hopes of soothing my soul and inspiring you, I’d like to share ten things I’m thankful for–at the dawn of my 24th year.

In no particular order…

1. Strawberry the Car

This week I’ve logged a lot of miles in my magic carpet.  I picked up the print edition of We are the Living from the courier (an hour and fifteen minutes away), I went to dinner with two college friends, and before the week is out, Strawberry’s little wheels will take me to my second 5K race.  Since I got my own car (after 5 years of waiting) I’ve been granted a whole new level of freedom.  I’m grateful for that.

2. A job that challenges me.

I’ve worked at the pharmaceutical plant for a year and a half now, and the job has yet to get easy.  That’s perfect, even if it is frustrating at times (like today).  As long as it keeps me learning I won’t get bored or stagnate.

3. I work in pyjamas all day!

Scrubs, actually, but they’re just as comfortable.  Some people don’t like wearing a uniform, but I wouldn’t change it.  They’re loose, modest, and save on laundry.

4. Coffee

Mmm… coffee.

5. Autumn is coming

Now, this also means that winter is coming, which in Manitoba is a six-month affair… but let’s not think that far.  I look forward to the crisp air, the falling leaves, and pumpkin everything–except those fake pumpkin syrup things every coffee shop hawks at us.  Ew!  Pumpkin cheesecake (sugar free, low carb) is on the birthday menu tomorrow.

6. Stevia

The secret to healthy living, as far as I’m concerned.

7. Coworkers who are also friends.

I’ve had some excellent coworkers over the last three years, and I’m pleased to still call many of them friends.  Work is so much better with them!

8. WiFi at home

Wow, what a relief to not have to drive, walk or bike to find WiFi!  As a blogger, it was getting a bit ridiculous.  I was single-handedly supporting every coffee shop in town, I think.

9. The Electric Donkey

Also known as my next 5K race, and what has been motivating me for the last month.  I’m so excited!

10. My family

We’ve had some wonderful visits lately.  Our bonfire pit has added another six inches of ash to its layers, I think.  They’re the best people to hang out and drink coffee with on a Saturday evening, and I look forward to celebrating my birthday with them tomorrow.  I’ll bring the cheesecake!

So tell me?  What are you thankful for?  Feel free to comment with your own lists.

 

 

Must We All Grow Up to be Humbugs? 5 Fun Things Challenge Wrap-Up.

Will I eventually become a boring adult?

I fear it is inevitable.

You know the ones.  They spend 80% of their lives on their butts.  The other 20% is spent shopping or mowing their front lawn.  They go to work via the Tim Horton’s drive through, and then come home through the same coffee-filled avenue.  They spend the evening in front of the TV, or on better days, at their son’s hockey game.  They’d never lift a finger to play a game.  They’d rather die than run.

They probably would die if they tried to run.

They talk about their deteriorating health and bash their bosses, and they think Tim Horton’s makes good coffee because they haven’t had anything else in two years.

I’m painting with a brush as wide as a football field.  I know.  But that is who I fear becoming.

When I was a kid, it bewildered me why the adults I knew only wanted to sit around and visit with each other.  Why would they never, ever participate in the fun game that we had going?  I realize now that adults are tired folk.  And why not?  Many work a minimum of forty hours a week and then come home, cook dinner, and do laundry.  Most of them eat absolute garbage, and don’t have time to exercise, and can’t sleep because they’ve had too much Tim Horton’s.  They spend every evening taxiing their kids to soccer and ballet and piano lessons.  I know this is because they want to give their kids the best shot at life, but I fear they’re living their lives vicariously through their kids because they gave up on their dreams long ago.

If that’s what it means to grow up, I don’t want to do it.

I’ve come to the end of my 5 Fun Things Challenge.  I ended the challenge on an 11 hour work day, which admittedly makes fun a little more difficult.  It’s fitting.  Most of my days are work days, so I need to learn to make them fun.  I’m a grown-up now.

Day 3, Monday:

I went to Folklorama and visited the Chilean pavilion.  I enjoyed lively music, sublime singing, and dancing that was a mix of courtly and all-out love for life.  The empanadas and drinks were good too. 🙂

Day 4, Tuesday:

I had to wear a respirator to spray caustic cleaner, so I breathed like Darth Vader.  Disclaimer: laughing under a half-mask respirator may break the seal.

I caught a ride on a pallet as it went by.  Then I got scared and jumped off.

I watched this video and giggled like a maniac in McDonalds.  If you don’t have time to watch the whole thing, skip to about 5 minutes in and see Seth McFarlane do Liam Neeson’s Taken phone call in Kermit the Frog’s voice!

To sum up the experience…

Why end now?  Tomorrow I’m going to try to make it a fun day.  I know that tomorrow will have just as many adult experiences–a work day, important business stuff, cooking dinner, and going for a run.  But I’m grown-up, not dead.

And I’ve got a dream, and thus, a lot to live for.  Why not have fun–BE fun while doing it?

Will You Tolerate What You’ve Created?

“Never be satisfied as a drone worker, just showing up and going through the conveyor-belt routines you’re taught. In any position, always be looking for things to improve. And never, ever compromise your moral standards in the name of ‘Everyone is doing it.’

Are you uncomfortable with anything you see at your workplace or in any other position in which you serve? What should you do about it? Why do you think so many people just go along with wrongs they see happening every day?” –From Wavemakers, by LIFE Leadership.

This passage troubles me. In fact, the sheer weight of it makes me want to curl into a ball in the corner. Don’t put this on me! Don’t saddle my integrity with this! Don’t you see I’m doing the best I can?

There’s a lot that goes on in my workplace that I don’t agree with—from teasing that goes beyond friendliness to signing for work that hasn’t been done.

It actually takes work to work an honest eight-hour day because the culture is to waste the first and last fifteen minutes in visiting.  You mean we actually work at a factory? It’s not a social club? It takes concerted effort to do a good job because people are so accustomed to accepting ‘good enough’. I should never have to ask the question “did you actually do this, or are you just saying that?” But I do.

I’m not saying I’m perfect—far from it. This week I’m nowhere near my usual cheerful self, and holding tight to my integrity is a daunting task. I’m struggling to stand. How hard can I push for excellence without breaking relationships? I don’t want to be a legalistic taskmaster. I just want to do a good job.

This really bothers me because I am weak right now and I wish my coworkers wouldn’t make things harder for me—unintentional though it is. I don’t have the energy to pick a side in their political games, or discern whether they really calibrated the scale or they just filled in the numbers.

Do I say ‘No, I will do right,’ or be washed away by the current?

This quote offers some insight.  It’s not exactly on topic, but read it through the lens of your workplace and I think it will make sense.  Edward Snowden said:

“If living unfreely [sic] but comfortably is something you’re willing to accept—and I think many of us are because it’s human nature—you can get up every day, go to work, you can collect your large paycheck [sic] for relatively little work against the public interest, and go to sleep at night after watching your shows.

But if you realize that that’s the world you helped create and it’s gonna get worse with the next generation who extend the capabilities of this sort of architecture of oppression, you realize that you might be willing to accept any risk and it doesn’t matter what the outcome is so long as the public gets to make their own decisions about how that’s applied”–as quoted in Wavemakers.

He was talking about national freedom. I’m talking about personal freedom, job quality and heck, the jobs we wish we could work at. The job we have—the culture, conditions and general attitude—is what we have helped to create.  Whether by commission or omission, our workplace is what we’ve made it.

We want a supportive, inspiring, positive environment. We want fulfillment and advancement. We want freedom. But who will create that if we don’t?

Who will shine bright if I won’t?

“It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do a little. Do what you can,”—Sir Sidney Smith.