|Begonias, bright and beautiful|
Its fall and I love mums. I love new mums in the fall; new mums in pots on the porch and about the yard. But more than buying new plants, which would go a long way to soothe my heart/mind after the miserable night I just had, my deepest desire is to leave this job – and to do so, according to plan.
|More begonias, strong and full|
It was another difficult night. It started incredibly bad. Even before I arrived things were in a state of upheaval. I thought I would just follow the plan that had been laid out without asking any questions. I am practicing going with the flow. I have to practice because my natural inclination is to question the process. At the time, it seemed the best plan to avoid conflicts and undue stress. I was wrong. Before we had even turned over charge of the desk I had already become embroiled in angst. Angst is the best word to describe the shouting, dismissive tones used to address me. While I perfectly understood that things were going downhill, I could feel even more deeply how very much I preferred to be elsewhere.
When I am doing as asked someone is mad and clear that they have a right to be rude, condescending and or dismissive toward me. When I make an attempt to find support or help for the customers we serve, the staff are angry that they have to do their jobs. When I mind my own business and stay clear of any process that is directly part of my job I am held accountable for not anticipating the needs of staff and meeting them. Most days I feel like I work for and with alcoholics - walking on eggshells because they are extremely sarcastic and defensive.
Someone left their coffee cup in the drawer, full of coffee, upside down. Someone made a dish of crackers and broth and left powdered broth on a washcloth on the counter, crackers on the counter, and coffee spill everywhere. There was a towel on the floor. Why? I pick up, clean up, restock, tend, clear, pitch, and wipe. I’d like to post one of those signs that say, “I am not your mother. Clean up behind yourselves.” But the reality is there are signup sheets to clean up behind others. Then I remember I get paid the same no matter what the task. I do complain, but it makes no different; merely another opportunity to let go.
Temperatures and turning leaves are falling. Exiting the building these mornings I open to the changing seasons. September has faded away and in four weeks I begin the closing process. The anguish over flu vaccinations has quieted. Within I agree to hold my tongue. These days the most important thing on my mind is staying employed until I am ready to submit my resignation.
I allow these nights, with their myriad challenges, to remind me of my priorities:
I appreciate the beauty around me.
I am thankful for the foundation I have lain and the abundance the blooms forth.
|Fall berries on the vine|
I recognize that I have more than enough and that all my needs are met.
I honor the lessons even in the most difficult situations.
I remain alert and aware of my surrounding.
I allow each person to follow their own path, just as I wish to follow mine.
I am thankful for each day with its blessings.
Everything works out in the end. If it hasn’t worked out, it’s not the end.
Further along the journey…
Grief and gratitude are kindred souls, each pointing to the beauty of what is transient and given to us by grace.
Patricia Campbell Carlson
(Letter to a friend)
(Letter to a friend)