Mergers and Layoffs and what’s in Between

When a patient resides in palliative care, effort is usually taken to make the person’s last days as comfortable as possible. It is truly unfortunate that the same consideration is not taken in other, similar situations. A couple months ago, my company was in the final stages of restructuring and although neither I nor my co-workers were facing the end of our lives, we were, in a sense, facing the slow inevitable death of our jobs.

The company where we were employed had been acquired by a hostile takeover. What ensued was a mass exodus as many people scrambled to find other jobs. Once the dust had cleared, those of us remaining looked around and took stock. We were the ones who had decided to continue until the end. Knowing that we would be jobless in mere months was not an easy realization. To the new company we became the expendable ones.

We reluctantly settled in and tried to remain proud and positive. A new dress code was implemented with less than four months left. For most people it seemed ridiculous and unnecessary. Vacations were limited, coffee breaks were monitored and appointments were scrutinized. It felt like the entire department was slowly eroding. We became stressed, worried and had a difficult time concentrating. Instead of adhering to the new rules, many people began to push them to the limit. It was almost like watching an unintentional social experiment. One wonders why we even bothered to stay.

Many of us owed the new company no allegiance at all, but stayed because we felt loyal to each other. What remained of the old corporation, as it was slowly assimilated, were relationships with our co-workers, past and present. Had it not been for the many others surrounding us, who were in the same situation, it would have been much harder getting through the last month. If the new company had not been so focused on the bottom line or how they looked to the press, they would have seen that the rules they had set to increase productivity were actually having the opposite effect.

To cope, I turned it into a learning experience. I took two important things away from this. The first thing was how you cannot underestimate the importance of camaraderie among your co-workers. I had read articles that said caring co-workers were the number one reason for job satisfaction. I can personally attest to this. The second thing I took away was how not to treat a group of potentially loyal employees. There is no easier way of alienating your people than by suddenly changing, for the worse, the environment on which they depend and have become most comfortable. Employees should be treated as the assets and investments they are rather than expenses, regardless of how long they will be there, because the only thing worse than losing a happy employee is keeping an unhappy one.

Frozen Motivation

It’s tough being a Winnipegger in the middle of a frigid January winter and training for a spring marathon. Options are few, opportunities are fewer.

A couple weeks ago, with the weather forecasting a windchill nearing -43 degrees Celsius I took up the offer of my brother and his wife’s treadmill. I figured I needed some kind of carrot to keep me going so I stopped at the video store on my way over to pick up two of the Jason Bourne movies. Starting the first one I mentally vowed to pause the movie each time I took a break and not allow myself to watch the movie unless I was actually running. Not being a great treadmill runner it took me about 30 minutes to find my “tread-legs”. Then off I went. I broke it up into 15 minute intervals between which I would stop and grab a big gulp of water, and wipe the sweat off my body, and step back on for another 15 minutes. This was the only way I could get myself through this tortuous and grueling ordeal. It was the slowest 2 hours of my life and it felt like the longest marathon I had ever run.

Flash forward to a week later, the only difference was that the windchill this time was a mere -30 degrees Celcius. I decided to take this one outdoors because the thought of another 2 hours running in the exact same spot was giving me chills and I hadn’t even stepped out of my door. Two and a half hours later I bounded up the stairs to my apartment, feeling buoyant and energetic, despite having run 15 miles on snowy packed trails.

For days afterwards I wondered why the opposing difference in experiences. One would think that running indoors, unencumbered by two pairs of pants, four top layers, a neck warmer, toque, and double mitts would be freeing. Instead I had found myself labouring and watching the treadmill countdown (more than I watched the movie) and timing when I could jump off and have a quick break. Oddly, during my outdoor run I ran 45 minutes straight before stopping to grab a drink of water at the park skating shelter before heading out for my next 5 miles. I felt neither as tired nor needed much of a break.

I think watching the scenery pass me by as I run outdoors is what gets me through these long runs. I can actually see my motivators up in the distance. “I will run to the railroad tracks”. “I will run through the park.” “I will run around the golf course.” For me these are more concrete than, “I will run for 15 minutes”. And that is why I am not a treadmill runner. I appreciated the opportunity to run indoors in insulated comfort. But I think I will choose the mild discomfort of the cold if it means the time will pass more quickly.

Besides winter will not last forever, and each of these cold runs means one less as April approaches. I have learned that I can be stubborn and a lot stronger than I give myself credit for most of the time. And I just think of the character I build each time I walk out the door for another long one. We Winnipeg runners are full of it…character that is…!

The Mind’s Age

Listening to Shelagh Rogers interview Douglas Copeland on CBC radio one morning really got my creative writing spark heated up. I wanted to leave work that day and head off to a coffee ship to write for the rest of the day. Some day my words will make me money, but until that happens, they’ll just have to make me happy.

Today’s brainstorm deals with age and perception, something the two speakers touched on in their captivating discourse. We all have a specific concrete number that defines the years we have lived on this planet. We also have a more abstract number. More specifically, this alternative number defines who we think and feel we are inside. If you were to close your eyes and relax and think about how old you really feel, the chances are the number will be less than your actual age. We all have our ‘mental’ age and each person’s differs for their own reasons. The two radio personalities postulated that our mental age was one at which we felt the most happy with ourselves and our life at that time.

I’d never gone much past 30. For me, 30 was an ideal age – still young enough to be forgiven for my frivolities, yet sufficiently mature to be taken seriously on most levels. Recently though, my mental age is beginning to catch up with my physical one.

Before I turned 40 I dreaded the prospect of hitting middle age. It loomed in front of me and I had visions of suddenly becoming ‘old’. Until I decided to attack it back with the same ferocity with which I was allowing it to control me. Suddenly I had become empowered. By taking jurisdiction of it, complete with fighting stance and “bring it on” attitude, I turned this pivotal milestone into a memorable and enviable event. My ideal age of 30 transformed overnight to 40. If I willingly take into account that my mental age reflects the time I was the happiest, then my two ages have melded, and are continuing to meld as I keep aging, into one. Perhaps growing older is not so bad when you consider the benefit of maturity and expanded knowledge base combined with the freedom to answer only to yourself.

I still have days when I feel like I am back in high school, but am quite thankful that those days are long behind me. I think it all comes down to the quote by Mohammed Ali, “Age is whatever you think it is. You are as old as you think you are.” For me, as long as I am happy, I am happy with my age.

Reflecting…

I’ve been busy thinking over the past few weeks…and sorely neglecting my writing as I immerse myself in Christmas decorating, baking, shopping, wrapping, card writing and the like. It seems that this time of year gets busier and busier every year. I had mentioned to a colleague that it seemed much quieter when I was a kid, only realizing as I said it that as an adult, much more responsibility lies in making the season enjoyable for my kids. So as they put up decorations in their room and watch Christmas specials on television, I am frantically zipping around my kitchen making sure I have my promised eggnog bread ready for the work potluck lunch, and that my cards have been mailed out so they reach their intended recipients on time. I’m checking my list and coming to recognize that I will have inevitably missed something/someone along the way.

But this Christmas will be different from all the others. This will be the first “Christmas Day” in 43 years that I will be spending alone. It comes with having to schedule children between two homes and taking turns with major holidays. (This year is his.) But there is a light in all this madness, and it isn’t the light from the Christmas tree (which I just now realized I have forgotten to water!). In all the madness and scrambling that usually happens Christmas morning, I will be able to leisurely rise and make the required pot of coffee, toast a bagel, put on some classic Christmas music and just relax in my fuzzy white bathrobe. It will be a morning free of hassle and disturbances, of rushing to acting lessons, or doing last minute grocery shopping. It will be a morning of quiet reflection. Of remembering Christmases past, and looking forward to those to come. In an odd sense I am thankful that I will have this time to myself.

That said, there are places I would rather be and special people I would rather be spending it with. Since it is not possible at this time, I will be making the best of it. Time with family will come the following weekend when we get together to celebrate on the 29th. Then someone who is very special arrives the following week. This time of year is about family and friends and being thankful for their presence in your life however they may have touched you. I am privileged to have been touched by many people over the past year. I have had the support and advice of family and friends, which has aided in getting me to this point. I have reconnected with faces not seen for years, and continued to bond with those who have always been here. . So in a sense, I will not be alone this Christmas, because Christmas to me is wherever you are, and who you are with, and when you decide to recognize it. In a sense, I have been recognizing it all year long. Thank you everyone. For just being.

Dirty Laundry

There are municipalities in this country which have restrictive covenants against clotheslines on one's property. They were originally instituted in a time when energy conservation was not one of the prevailing issues faced by society and property esthetics were deemed as more important. Today, when we are confronted with rising electricity and oil costs, it just makes sense to cut back on energy use where we can.

Early in my (now dissolved) marriage I expressed my wish to erect a clothesline the backyard of the home we had recently purchased. This simple request was met with disdain and derision and I was literally shocked into silence. When I tried to argue my case it was like my words were hitting a brick wall. Although I was never given a concrete reason, I have since been lead to believe that the clothesline symbolized poverty and lower class levels. Who would have thought a simple and cost effective method of drying one's clothes could cause such a great debate? Curious, I posed a question to some friends, worded as unbiased as I could, "Do you/would you use a clothes line to dry your clothes? Why/why not?"

I won't call my results scientific by any means, but they were oddly telling. Of the roughly 25 people I polled, only 3 women answered my call compared with 7 men… All three women and 5 of the men would be overwhelmingly in favour of using a clothesline, if they weren't already. The reasons varied, but themes included wanting to conserve energy, liking the smell of line-hung clothing and the invoking of childhood memories.

A simple internet search reveals that this subject runs much deeper than most people would think. Photographers have captured the beauty of clotheslines in their shadow, shape and form and there are books dedicated to various knots used to secure the cords between two trees/poles/buildings. There are also "green" websites devoted to the act of hang drying clothes where the forums go on for pages with all opinions and reasons for (or against), the simple line. It's almost as if there is a secret clothesline society.

For myself there is a poignant romanticism associated with them. They extol life at its simplest denominator. The sound of sheets and towels fluttering, the silhouettes they cast upon the green grass below or the buildings between which they hang, and most prominent, the fresh smells they capture and bring inside to be experienced for days to come. There is just a homey satisfaction to the unpretentious act of hanging clothes out to dry.

Although the closest I can come today is a wooden drying rack in my apartment spare room, I can guarantee that the next home I buy will have a clothesline in the back yard. (I guess that brings the women total up to 4.)

Pure Passion

Pure passion is a part of many of us. We have things in our lives that we are avid about. And some of us have more than just one. A high school friend I have just recently reconnected with sparked the idea for this post.

We had not seen each other for probably close to 25 years. At a high school reunion we spoke briefly and outlined, in a few short sentences, what we had done during that time. It is easy to discover someone’s passion when you have only a few short minutes to compress your life. People tend to pick out the best of the best when looking to quickly describe their life. More often than not, a person’s passions will be first and foremost. While this particular friend was telling me what he had been doing since we last parted a recurring theme emerged in his descriptions. His wife and children were the first thing he mentioned, then next, not surprisingly, wasn’t his job (I still don’t know what he does) but his chosen sport, windsurfing. I knew then, when I saw the spark in his eye, that this was something about which he felt quite strong. And he could see that I was receptive to hearing more, so he elaborated and enthusiastically answered my questions on the subject.

It is curious to listen to someone speak about something that holds so much importance to them. And even more intriguing to be able to relate to them and share in their enthusiasm, even if you don’t understand anything about it. Because if you have a passion of your own, you already know the feeling and can apply it to something that is familiar to you.

He in turn has commented to me about my personal aspirations, running, but more to the point, running the Boston Marathon in 2008. Because we both understand, there is very little that actually needs to be said. It’s like we just know. I find it interesting that there are some people whom I barely know who can understand my passion more than someone who spent over 12 years of their life with me. But it just tells me that in order to understand passion, you must own it. And to own it you must feel it. Only then can it make you become truly alive.

In all seriousness…no really…

It has come to my attention that my posts of late are on the way-too-serious side…I’ve been reflecting so deeply to the point that I am starting to gasp for air and it takes too long for me to surface these days…I think I may need to lighten up and perhaps reflect on the lighter side of my life.

My sister-in-law and I trade positive affirmations on a daily basis…These “affirmations” are intended to put a cheerful swing on our activities of the last 24 hours as well as look optimistically ahead to what may be in store for us for that day. In the last year I must admit we have taken positive to a whole new level…

Do you remember when you were in school and you were about to write an exam and muttered under your breath, “I’m going to fail this test.” The teacher hears you and tells you to think positively, so then you mutter, “I am POSITIVE I’m going to fail this test.” That is the twist we have adopted with our routine updates. We are at the point where we now search for the most depressing part of our day to contort into a positively negative twist.

For example…she was having a rushed morning a couple of weeks ago so didn’t have a lot of time to style her hair the way she normally does. This is part of her affirmation list from that day:

• I did my hair this morning…it isn’t drying naturally
• People in the office aren’t asking…did you get a perm?
• Yes, I got a perm

It makes me smile and starts the day off on a light note…
It has also come to the point where we will try to out-affirm each other with the most outlandish statements we can muster up, not an easy thing to do first thing in the morning with barely a cup of coffee in our bloodstream. I find it gets my creativity kick-started and often I end up jotting down a few lines which sometimes end up as part of a blog topic. Another example shows how I turned my immense discomfort from a 5 day scorching heat wave this summer into a positive experience which I blogged about back in July (see “Heat”)

• I slept comfortably the entire night.
• It was cool and lovely in my apartment when I got home last night.
• It was cool and lovely in my apartment when I left for work this morning.
• I am just reveling in this weather.
• It is absolutely gorgeous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
• I did not come to work strictly for the air-conditioning.

And then there are the running affirmations…this sport which we both do and love and hate at the same time has been the source of many laugh-out-loud mornings…this from my sister-in-law four weeks after blackening her toenail while running the Manitoba Marathon:

• I didn’t pull off my toenail last night.
• It hurt.
• I have a new toenail under it.
• It doesn’t hurt now.
• I can wear open-toe shoes.

And mine after a particularly tough, but satisfying, hill workout:

• Hills are my friend.
• I didn’t nearly lose a lung after my 7th repeat.
• My muscles weren’t screaming after I was done.
• I wanted to run at least 5 more.

And thus begins each day…
I think we need to inject humour into our daily lives. What manner that humour comes to us is unique to each individual. I have had a year of seriousness that I have tried to punctuate with small clips of joy. This is one way for me to start my workday on a high note.

• I hope none of you ever get this opportunity.
  :)