Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot. - Charlie Chaplin

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

sinking feeling

Most of my pure emotion tends to flow out when I'm in a vehicle.  For some reason it feels uninhibited, maybe because I'm encapsulated in my own little world, the whole "bubble effect"; in the big world, but not.  Sometimes I'm alone, sometimes with my wife. 

Not long ago, a conversation about work led me directly into a rant on "people just not caring".  I let it all fly out.  It didn't take much effort at all to go on and on about the topic, injecting adjective after adjective before each name or situation.  This is probably because it was true, what has become a sort of "theme" to my everyday life, at least in much of recent history.

With any project or activity, effort is put in.  We're told that we're working towards a goal, that we're improving something with this effort, with this time and energy.  We're told to "work hard" and commended when noticeable "extra effort" is put in.  We're told "this is important", "that is VERY important", "report this and that, ASAP!", "if this changes too much it's bad, keep taht from happening".  Then, it all comes to a near halt with one or more people who simply, sometimes even admittedly just, don't, care.

Frustration sets in, intensifying more so as the screams of the importance of said project (or whatever it might be) grow louder and the care of the few keeps its steady, monotone frequency.  The only reason in the first place it was deemed important by the worker was, after all, because they were told it is and should be seen as such by the few, the upper crust and some middle crust.     

"You're polishing the brass and buffing the floors of the Titanic."  While the rant I just went on justifies that there is truth to this saying, I hate it.  It's demoralizing and not exactly a candidate phrase for a motivational poster.  On the other hand, looking at it differently, it can be motivation to bail the ship out and get her to float in turbulent seas that only want to drag us down. 

But, seriously who wants to feel as if what they do daily is meant to save the very thing that should sustain your talents, and provide a drive to succeed.  I want to be a deck hand helping the ship to sail port to port safely, to insure guests are happy and, moreover, that I'm contributing to something bigger, to an overall, shared (institutional) pride, and caring, that fuels everything. 

The unfortunate thought that just crossed my mind:  when the Titanic went down, it took over half the people on board with it, including the captain.