Tbd.

Is this exercise unproductive? Somewhere, I read that Ryan Holiday believes writing without structure is pointless. Maybe he’s right but it’s something that soothes me. Sometimes when I get nervous, all kinds of thoughts will fly at me and it begins to overwhelm me. This exercise, at the least, helps me slow those thoughts down. They slow down because, by putting them down on paper (Like everything I write, I write a first draft in a notebook), I can only get them down as fast as I can write with my pen. It serves as a channel, I guess. The problem with this, of course, is that I can’t always just sit here and write what comes to me. I actually have to go out and live my life and gather experience. The conundrum is this, though. The more life I live, the more experience I gather, the more new situations I put myself in, the more scared I make myself, the more exacerbated my impulse to write becomes. 

Nice girl at new job. Not sure why she’s nice to me. Not many of the other people have been outwardly nice to me. No one has been overtly mean or less than cordial, she has just been the only one to go out of her way to ask how I’m doing. I’m naturally inclined to take this as a sign that she wants something more from me but I’m in the habit of avoiding natural inclinations these days. As I think more about it, I think she’s simply a kind person who knows what it feels like to be a new person in a chaotic environment like the one I chose to participate in. Most of the people walk around like they don’t have the time or interest to get to know the new guy in training. I understand that inclination for a few reasons. First, they probably don’t actually have time to get to know the new guy. And even if they did, most don't’ want to use it getting to know someone new. It’s like what I’ve started to notice about finding new music the older I get. The older we get, the more our life responsibilities weigh on us. The more pressure we feel to succeed, to explore, to fit in, etc. We have jobs. Some of us have a spouse. Some of us have kids. Some of us have a million other priorities to pay attention to. Thus, we don’t have free time like we had when we were kids  to ding new music. I used to sit in my room for hours and search for new music when I was a kid. I had several websites I’d scour. I had programs I’d use. I’d chat with friends online to hear what they were listening to. And I’d play new music for hours and hours. If I didn’t like a song, I’d get rid of it or I wouldn’t listen to it again. But the important thing is that I was willing to use some of my time and energy in search of new music and risk not liking some of it to find the good stuff. Well, at my new job and in life, seems like people don’t take that kind of time anymore which stinks. I’m not even saying people are wrong for being this way. It’s natural. I’m just saying I get why it happens this way. It’s not personal, especially when no one has any real reason to trust me yet. It takes time to be accepted to a new group. It takes even more time if this group sees that you have no true idea what you’re doing. Time is the only thing that can fix it. Once people see that you’ve invested in them, they’ll invest in you. 

This brings me to another point. I don’t see how it hurts anyone to invest in others instead of waiting to be invested in first. Dammit, it takes effort but I think it’s worth it in the long run. 

Here’s an example from my past life: When I ran sales at an Assisted Living community, I knew the most valuable people in the building weren’t sitting in the nice offices on the first floor of the building. The most important people are the people who interact with the residents, intimately, all day and all night. An example of this type of person is a nurse’s aide. Nurse’s aides are responsible for making sure all of the care on a resident’s care plan is completed. It’s a job that’s difficult. It requires planning, time management, patience, kindness, empathy, and physical exertion. In my position as Sales Director, I knew this. If I were more appreciative of the role I had, I could’ve paid more attention to these nurse’s aides. I relied on these aides to carry through on all of the information I used to persuade the potential resident or family member to choose our community. Knowing that, I could’ve treated my nurse’s aides with more appreciation and gratitude than I did. This is especially true because I’ve done that job and know just demanding it is. 

Some of the managers I’ve encountered at this new job so far seem to lack this empathy. But this is just one man’s opinion. I’m not sure if they’ve never worked as a back server or it’s been so long that they forget what it feels like but to be reminded wouldn’t be to their detriment. 

A lobster pot. 

Ever think about the way a lobster must feel as it’s being boiled alive? Lobsters do get boiled alive the way crabs do, right? 

Anyway, for now, let’s assume they do. 

It’s a traumatic image but it’s visceral. 

The lobsters scramble, crawl, stand on, and would kill each other if it meant they could escape the boiling pot of water. 

In the worst of environments, this is the way I feel. Sometimes this is how I feel about life. And being in a new organizaition, it’s so clear. All of the biggest lobsters flexing their claws so no one dares get close enough to climb on top of them. All the smaller, lesser status lobsters shoving and pushing each other around waiting for their opportunity to escape or, at the very least, move further away from the flame beneath.

If you’re lucky, you’ll be one of those lobsters who isn’t in the pot of boiling water. But if you find yourself in the boiling water, better to go out with some dignity than to be the one quick to step on your fellow lobsters shoulders. 

Holy shit. 

A little better now.

At least now I feel like I have a better grip on my thoughts. For now. 

Still not sure if this is mental illness or the plight of a sensitive 30 year old man. 

Tbd.