Got caught up in three separate stories this past weekend…a dangerous game to play in the eyes of Artist Way author Julia Cameron—her view of the pages we leave behind are constructively created by protecting the person you are before borrowing your energy to any or all who elect to pass you by.
A good example: You get to work early on Monday, you feel unforgettably upbeat—this is going to be incredibly better than ever. Without warning Sobbing Robby or Hang your head Harriett appears at your desk making it your job to pick their tail up and send them down the path feeling all fresh and new.
You’ve lost the war. Go get that candy bar or power drink that reportedly picks you up, then that lonely donut calling your name followed by a quick swig of Diet Pepsi which is ok to drink gallons of because it features the word diet. There’s nothing you can do…your week is shot!
Wet blanket syndrome is a disease. To ignore a friend or fallen coworker isn’t your style. It makes you feel incredible to help others locate the strength to stand up and move forward. But…the 20 minutes to an hour it took to get the story out has now added extra pressure to your day and bosses don’t understand the words late or fallen behind.
Dr. David once said to me, “I know you love to talk about real things with real people but never forget the golden rule of protecting the soul first: Sympathy versus empathy. Sympathy is when you’re friend is in a giant hole and you climb down into it to get them out. They run away while you spend the rest of the day trying to figure out how you’re going to get out. Empathy is throwing them a rope.”
I bumped into three separate stories this past weekend and each were handled by way of measuring how much empathy I had left in the gas tank. Times are extremely tough and anyone over the age of 35 is flat out convinced the business world no longer has any interest in what it is they bring to their success. There can be no success if your failures are based on the inexperienced endeavors of a wanna-be who’ll decide half way through the mission that they’ve changed their mind about the chosen career.
I don’t read books…I study the fingerprints that curve around each word leaving behind thoughts that have the ability to move a community or nation. Instant gratification or lack thereof is what makes our knees weak. Even if you’ve been blessed with gobs and gobs of tremendous value and success eventually the joints required to get us where we’re going need to be replaced and the process to get back up is based solely on what you’re willing to put back into it.
Who wins?
The single, 60 year old father with two boys in college who’s had two heart attacks, a one time blazing career in real estate and now can’t even land a job at Lowes or Home Depot.
The well trained visionary chef who finds tremendous passion in recreating unforgettable meals once blanketed with too much gourmet salt, seasoning and frosting but now carries a flavor that a 90 year old man can enjoy without upsetting the medical world he finances daily through assumed endless amounts of insurance.
The mother of two who grew two inches the moment doctors replaced her knees. Although the recovery is demanding and blessed with pains that close down most thought processes, she’s learned to stare into darkness and hear Yoda whispering, “Feel the force.”
Who wins? Each of them win…
Your only job in life is to be the messenger. Not the fixer. Not the mender. Not even the part time aspirin—nothing more than a Johnny Apple Seed planting newer thoughts and processes into the hearts of someone who rightfully is having a really, really bad day.
The father of 60 who can’t get a job wanted to dumb down his resume. I’ve done that and always wanted to make it look like I’ve never done a day of radio in my life…then poof…the dude who hired me feels like he’s gotten his hands on a ripe one. Ego, ego, ego, ego. I calmly asked him to try something I picked up from Pat Croce’s books, “Take the light off you and ask the employer what you can do for them.”
The Chef has been forced into a position where he won’t cook anymore…its called management. I know this game all too well. I nearly died not getting to do what I wanted most in life…to record music. Taking from the book When the Game is Over, It All Goes Back In the Box…you can give, give, give, give, give and in the end someone will ask, “What do you think he left behind?” The answer………….all of it.
The mother with brand new knees who didn’t have a great time in therapy—yet she didn’t stop. What could I give her? I actually borrowed from her the willingness to look into the eyes of pain and say, “No this is my mind, body and soul and if we don’t figure out a way to communicate, life will be nothing more than a bed with a television set in front of it.”
Nobody jumped into holes. Not a single person I met with yesterday felt as if I stole from their energy supply and none of them took from me. Sympathy versus empathy. Addiction begins when you can’t find the kite that’s going to take you a little higher than yesterday.
Even if you do it once or twice a day for two minutes or twenty...rediscovery isn't just a word. It requires experience and through your challenges, everything seen, heard and felt has the ability to make someone's day brighter tomorrow. Don't jump into the hole with Down in the Dumps David...use empathy. 99.9999% of the time they want no part of it. You created an addiction of giving them an instant high and rarely if ever do they return the favor. Isn't that the behavior of all people who are addicted to something?
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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