So are u like most who give your all plus extra and
what’s left of you if lucky, goes home to your tired
self. Dont let things be out of order when you hit
the front door cause then your tiredness hook up with
frustration and that yelling thing jumps off.n Well those
be the warning signs that you are just going through the motions of life
trying make the ends meet up and if youre lucky with a little overtime..
you may have a lil something left over for a spa or hair do.
Wait hold on are
u thinking like me? Is this what a college degree gets me?
I thought with all the sacrafice I get big money with
Well I like many fell into a trap of comfortability. Any quick job
to keep lights on. And student loans off my back; I took it and
although ok at the time I stopped moving towards the higher vision.
In fact as I stuck around in the work place culture it
breaded a sense of tiredness that didnt lend itself to fresh wind.
In fact the climate was a bit old and stale, filled with
countless justifiable complaints. I began to succuumb to this way
of working and stopped living with little expectations of myself.
Is not that typical of a tired momma? Tired people just move at
times merely to stay afloat. Don’t ask a tired person to do
nothing more cause its likely not gonna happen. Oh and that
passion thingy ..so out the door when you tired; you are just
trying to get through the days end and gravitate towards
the highlights of the month “paydays.”
The day came when I was moved to a unit
requiring me to be in court more routinely.
Having served in various capacities for about
16 years, I had grown accustomed to the culture of our
agency and the families I enjoyed serving. In fact I truly
miss working in the agency; I no I was born to serve
in human suffering but as I would evolve I too began
to live in my own untreated human suffering. This tends to
be a norm for us “helping folks.”
Well back to what lead me to realized my season
was over in this platform…..
Okay so I’m going to court perhaps
week; blocks away from my office
so walking in a
infested downtown area full of fights,
police squabbles and all the drama of trying to
help my clients
manuever the parking madness.
Hot, sticky or sometimes rainy storms,
I raced over to court..failing forward in
my new role with “super wings” cause besides
I am reminded that I am a masters level
social worker therefore the level
of expectations were unsurmountable and
ever evolving despite recent pay slices,
union strikes and increased insurance premiums.
Then there came a day near a elevator
where I so happen to run into my supervisor who
had intended to inform me that “courts had made
complaints that I need to dress more court appropriate.” In an effort to find out
what this attire looked like, there were loaded assumptions
with no clear answer. I was told
it depended on what court room I was in and the
varianting values each judge had. For example one
judge being very much old school felt women social workers
should wear nylons if wearing a dress or skirt. Oh no how
nauseous…..I havent worn nylons since being forced as a
lil girl. Another judge prefers women in court to wear a
blazer cardigans and not expose shoulders.
Keep in mind one may never no which judge
is covering so the added stress of dressing to
please the eye became the added deal breaker for me.
The supervisor altho well intended suddenly became
my clothing designer by which her dress style was that
of amish. I am like I have zero tolerance at this
stage in my life to endure this kind of control.
This is when the light bulp for me went off.
I had to do something
different otherwise having others control
my being would be my
way of life thereby the vision inside of
me would remain dorment.
Now how can I demonstrate to my kids about freedom,
hard work and authencity when I myself is living caged.
So I have a better sense now to work
and count every journey and lesson to get
me to freedom now.
It feels so right, the money will come but first
my head and heart
had to align in order to receive. The cool part is..this is just the
tip of thee ice berg.