By most accounts George Armstrong Custer was headstrong and egocentric, rash, critical and foolish. He made bad decisions and blamed others for his problems. His career was a disaster, constant discipline problems and poor work habits undermining his progress. He came to the frontier seeking fame and glory and instead led 700 men to their death, including two of his brothers and a brother-in-law.
He underestimated his enemy. He didn't prepare well. He wouldn't listen to information and advice, and made predictable and disastrous bad choices. His attitude undermined his talents, and his laziness eroded all his gifts. He failed to respect the chain of command or the experience of his scouts and officers. I wonder if he had a moment of self-realization before he died. It isn't likely given his character and history.
I can't speak for Custer, although several generations of historians and archaeologists have tried. And I don't for a second mean to make light of a long and shameful history of genocide and exploitation. It's well beyond my grasp to comment on that. Instead I am thinking today of Custer the man, and my own too human tendency to act rashly and self destructively, the way I've bristled at authority or advice and gone off on my own way and backed myself into a hopeless position, time and time again. The shooting is about to start and I'm hopelessly outnumbered, broke and overwhelmed, in trouble at work. I feel broken and alone and deeply embarrassed to be in such a place. I did it to myself. I can't imagine how I'll possibly fix it.
Yesterday Marie called my bluff. We actually posted the second car to Craigslist, and the laptop, and got immediate offers for each. But we aren't ready. The fundamental problems have in no way been solved. We're still stuck. Today at work I got in trouble again and I deserved it. I'm being counselled about my attitude and performance. Three customers complained. They sent me home with an ultimatum to come tomorrow with a different attitude or don't come at all. I'm amazed they didn't fire me. I'm afraid they will anyway as soon as the new class is out of training.
Marie called me just now and sent me a couple of nice text messages. It was really encouraging to hear from her. I needed a friendly voice.
I have no one to blame but myself. Unlike Custer, I still have time to make peace or choose a new direction. Pray for me tonight. I've got to figure things out.
Dale,
ReplyDeleteWhy not coffee, you need a safe person to talk with right about now. The world is crashing even if you don't think it is. Two is better than one, when one falls the other one there to pick him up. You are displacing anger, your in a daze and confused stated and your hair is on fire. I can only hang on but so long before the line is draw in the sand as I await your return. This is a time to mustard up some blind faith and have a cup of coffee and chat. But it you who have to put the big toe in the water and ask for help. Trust me you can not go at this in your own state. See my quote:
“We can never solve our significant problems from the same level of thinking we were at when we created them.”
Dale... I've read every word you have posted on this blog. Feel like I know you, even though I obviously don't.
ReplyDeleteGive yourself more credit. You have compassion and the strength it takes to make yourself vulnerable. You have people who love you more than you love yourself. You have a way with words and an honesty that takes my breath away the same way jumping into the McKenzie River on a hot day can.
Bottom line: Trouble at work generally means you are a total f-up, or you are in the wrong place. I'm willing to bet it's the latter.
I can't offer any golden key to a magic door out of your troubles. But I can tell you I've been there, and I know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and feeling like a boa constrictor is wrapped around your chest.
Have faith. In god. In yourself. In the universe. Whatever works for you, but understand that you have the tools at your disposal to get through this. But you are pressing. You are the career .300 hitter who is stuck at .180 because you are trying too damn hard, and because every strikeout or soft grounder feels like a major failure. You've forgotten what it feels like to drive one into the gap.
It'll come. Have faith. Keep your eyes open. Ask for help. It'll come.
William, Brad--
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your feedback so much, my brothers. Thank you for taking this journey with me, and offering your perspectives. Sometimes when you're in the middle of something it's difficult to start going in the right direction, and it's a tremendous thing when you hear a caring voice in the darkness.