Thursday, November 27, 2014

Blind

I see you
walking there
without something
I have

I know I'm selfish
for thinking
I have problems
I know I'm selfish
for thinking
I'm justified
in having sympathy
for something
I don't
understand

You navigate your life
without knowing
what you touch
or what
this world
appears
to be

In many ways
I too
see nothing
but darkness


The other day I'm at work thinking about how my job really sucks. Not all the time, of course, but today it really blows. I'm doing the job of two people. No one has filled my former boss's position yet and no one probably will for some time. I'm down a technician and that position probably won't be filled until sometime after the new year. I can't possibly abandon my organization to pursue my writing full-time now. I could, but I won't do it. I won't leave someone else or my team with that mess. I'm rushing, rushing, rushing so fast every day that I can't think, I can't process, I can't really make the decisions I would like to make. People complain, people are antsy. They want everything done now and there just isn't enough "nows" for a team of four and a leader who really needs to not be interrupted continuously and called into senseless meeting after senseless meaning on a whim more than she'd like.

What my team is going through is not fair, but it's not completely impossible. And my woes? Well, they're still nothing compared to woes I've been through in other places, in different times, when life was lived under the illusion that it could actually be planned.

If I've become enlightened at all about the notions of "planning," "analyses," "technique" and "methodology," I know that it doesn't really work. When it comes down to just about anything, you have to fly...by the seat of your pants. You find out that you don't know what you thought you knew, that knowledge is really a bunch of current opinions mixed in with a grain of collective truth, and the best stuff comes from just doing things, feelings, "accidents," and what we don't know for absolute certainty.

That's where we're all "blind," right? We walk in darkness about who we are, who we'll become, where we'll be, and what our decisions and choices will teach us. A part of us knows - the unspoken part, the part that doesn't think in words, or contemplate what-ifs. Sometimes we do things because we want to stretch. Other times it's because it sounds good, feels good, it's what we want, it's what we think we want, or it's what someone else wants for us. Complicating matters is the fact that no one really knows with 100% certainty what is true and what is real.

It's one aspect of blindness - walking into things and making choices without knowing how we're going to feel about those choices, their aftermaths, or who those choices will shape us into being. The other aspect of blindness is not seeing and embracing with gratitude for what you do have and for who you are right now. Because really I have no right and no reason to complain about my hectic day, my hurried environment, my demanding users who need it done now (if not yesterday) exactly according to their needs. This is what I signed up for. This is the decision I made and the path I set out on, with all its rocks, dangerous inclines, seemingly impossible hills, twists, turns, valleys, rest stops, beautiful valleys, and exhilarating sense that I am doing something.

Maybe that "something" is important, maybe it makes a difference. Not in an imagined theoretical way, but in a way that doesn't seem obvious. It looks like something else. It's work and it's hard and it seems like you're going nowhere because you can't win. And that's the truth - you can't win. Not by someone else's definition. Not even by what he or she sees. You only know what you feel. One single unguided grasp at a time.