Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I'm Still Thinking

and feeling, and wondering. What comes next? Tonight, I cried and cried for my lost life. It felt as if I hadn't really grieved yet. Yes, I cried a lot after being unceremoniously and cruelly dumped by my former employer. After 11 years of service, putting my whole self into making that organization a place that was hip and cool, this is the way I'm treated. Like a pariah, a nobody, the invisible woman. I ceased to exist for people I worked with and liked, people I thought saw me. Nope. When power and prestige enter the equation, all personal feelings go out the window. Or so it seems in this instance.

When I was watching The Devil Wears Prada, I was transported back to my most recent job. While BM sometimes tried to be nice, most of the time she was imperious and rude. And the attitudes and behavior of staff were very similar to those portrayed in the movie. It was my first real exposure to the world of the rich, famous and powerful.

All my hard work at CH meant that I created a place attractive to the rich, famous and powerful. I really didn't know that they were as ruthless as they are. It's all about them, period. Egos the size of Manhattan. I'm amazed that they can fit into the same room together. And when push came to shove, most of them were completely cowardly, unprincipled, lacking integrity or moral fiber. I say that because not a single Board member has taken any responsibility for behaving like jerks - no, not so mild - behaving like Machiavelli's Prince. What untruths were told about me? And why did no one talk to me, ever, about it?

What I see now, I suppose, is that they felt and continue to feel perfectly justified in what they did. "It's business" is probably the refrain. Why do so many people believe that feelings and human kindness have no role in business? I was surprised to see "managerial opinions and thoughts" in the considerations to be factored into a company's strategic decision-making process. It's mostly about facts and figures, of course, but the human element does figure into decision-making. Just not at CH in January 2005.

So now what do I do? I have lost that place in the world, and also lost what I thought would be my next place. And I can't count on my body at all, after four surgeries in seven years, and probably some more to come. It feels like my life is over.

I am working toward an MBA, of course, and I can't forget that Adam Rubin needs my help with his project. Can I get the energy up to really do the work that's needed? We shall see.

The recovery from this L5 surgery is longer than the L3 recovery - of course, I am five or so years older now. 47 going on 48 in August, and I feel my life is over. That because my body is so unreliable, I'll not be able to work hard any more. Certainly no full-time work. Consulting is just not in my blood. I can do it, I'm sure, and I'll work on liking it. I like belonging to something bigger. I like partners. I like to work with my friends.

I always say I want to write. Write what? Oh, everything! Blogs, books - fiction and non-fiction - and articles, movie scripts, poems. My dream is to write a mystery. And to have a regular column somewhere to showcase my thoughts. And to affect public opinion because of what I write. I want and need a big stage. The thing is, this want/need is ego-based, in that I'm not entirely sure of what I will write or say but am convinced that when I do figure it out, I can be earthshatteringly impactful. It will be incredibly, staggeringly original, and I will prove capable of communicating clearly to all folks as well as of forming a relationship with my public. The rub is the content. My opinions shift, my ability to form a lasting opinion is limited by my tendency to listen to other people and be swayed somewhat by their opinions. Such shifting is downright unAmerican these days of having a strong opinion, choosing sides, taking a stand. Very oppositional - two ends of the spectrum - black and white, crisp and clear boundaries that are not to be violated lest one be accused of inconsistency.

Was it Hawthorne who said "a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of a small mind?" Foolish consistency is the hallmark of American politics and public opinion today - at least it is according to the pollsters and media gurus and spinmeisters. I wonder, though. Surely I can't be the only person who has entertained thoughts that some may find treasonous. Surely I am not the only person to see shades of grey in any question.

And I'm not thinking here of the theorists who have dissected business negotiations and interpersonal communication to discover that there are two or more sides to each situation. Nor do I think of the people who saw and appreciate "Rashomon's" message of multiple realities. Those people may or may not be able to identify their own bias (it's so darn hard to see oneself!) but they do think about this topic of polarity and the fuzzy nature of reality.

No, I'm thinking of ordinary people - no one remotely famous or very rich or inordinately powerful. Just an ordinary person, who lives life each day as it comes. Many of them are incredibly wedded to their rigid views. But aren't there at least a few people who do think "well, I may wish the President and Vice President and their team had made significantly better plans before invading Iraq, and I may wish that POTUS and VPOTUS had seen fit to cooperate with the UN a bit more, and I may think that the main impetus for the war was not Sadaam Hussein's brutal dicatatorship but rather the US's desire to control Iraq's oil...BUT now that we're there, I 'm glad Sadaam is out of power and I think we need to keep our troops there until the country is more stable - whether in one or three parts." I have both things in my head at the same time. I'm even willing to concede that I might not know as much about this issue as I would like, and so may not confidently offer an opinion about what they up to or what was and was not taken into consideration before the invasion.

I laid on my living room floor, flat on my back with legs outstretched and hands behind my head, crying because I'd lost feeling in and use of my right leg. We had just invaded Iraq, maybe a few days before. My parents sat on the sofa looking at me and listening to my crying and ranting. "I'm glad Bush invaded Iraq! I'm glad! Sadaam is a horrible man and needs to go, so it will be good for the people. I'm glad he's gone! If he wasn't helping Al Quaeda yet, he would later. They all deserve to die!" Clearly I was suffering from some sort of trauma - the loss of leg use was one. The recollection of 9/11 and its immediate aftermath was overwhelming to me as I watched the green-tinged television screen showing shelling of Baghdad. Having lived through 9/11, I simply can't stomach war movies - be they real or Hollywood.

Actually, Hollywood movies are worse because they offer a picture of what a few really rich and powerful people believe the world should be like. And it just isn't like that.