Guaranteed*

Work did what it does to me. I spent two days on a jobsite doing what I'm trained to do. Now I sit at a blank screen without an insightful or provocative thought. Work is mind numbing.

I made a few bucks. It was nice to get the tools out, install it properly, do a good job. On some level it was very satisfying. I earned my pay fair and square. I left with better relations with my fellow tradesmen and the customer. All were happy with my effort, and I should be, too.

Yesterday, the crew asked if I was going with them for coffee break. I declined and after they left I went and sat on the bench in the backyard, meditated and listened to the birds. Living in the city I don't often hear this wonderful cacophony. In my egocentric human state, I thought the birds were talking about me. It was a very pleasant way to spend a short time on beautiful morning. When they returned, I explained to the local boys how lucky they were to have birds. They looked at me like I was nuts.

I learned, as I now listen carefully, how much stress people are under. The self-anger when things don't go exactly right or the frustrations of the employed in workplace conditions. I don't understand why we don't have more self-compassion. Take it easy on ourselves. It seems so much of our identity is wrapped up in our occupations and being the absolute best at what we do is our personal goal. They broke Fast Eddie's thumbs after all. It doesn't pay to be the best, it pays to be the most satisfied.

Working people truly are their own worst enemies. We allowed middle management to browbeat us into self-doubt and pit us against each other in competition. Now middle management is looking for a job and I'm surviving without one. I don't intend on hiring an overseer. I wonder what their skills were and how needed they are. Their job was to divide, not to create, though by accident they took all the credit when a job was completed. I value my labor and don't need a big fat opinion on how deficient and overvalued it may be. I'd rather not believe lies. I will be appreciated for my efforts or do the job without me. I give my best, I will be respected.

Daily Meditation*

I do have the power to use hurtful words. I react to strongly and spontaneously. Thinking things through gets lost in the perception of an attack on me. Being clearheaded is a moment by moment effort. It's too easy to lash out. I apologize to everyone I have hurt with my words, and there has been many in recent times. In so many ways I see myself making progress in emotional development, then fall back into the old patterns of addled thinking. I'm learning, I'm striving for a peaceful existence. I let little things bother me to the point of pain and rage. I think I'm monitoring it, I have to believe these instances are getting fewer and farther between. I do know my nature isn't to hurt those around me. I do have a goal to be a better person. Why are we put on earth - to be a better person or to be a better worker? So much of our better nature is lost on the job site. How to hold your head high and have your spirit secure in the arena of office politics takes training in emotional intelligence. I'm a late, but willing, learner.

Canary in a Coalmine

A Canary in a Coalmine April 2008

I’m a 25-year construction worker and for the past three years working maintenance. Two months ago I broke down at work and cried.

I never saw myself as the poster boy for work place stress. I had never before been with such a group of people as these. The job site became a turgid place of percolating pain. For a month before, every diminishing comment, every name called, every stupid political statement in my listening area went inside of me and caused rage. I had lost all coping mechanisms and my nerves were raw. I cracked up.

For a week or two I was a wreck. My sensitivities were so acute. Everyone was an ignorant brute. Dead ends were every where. Work is not a refuge for people, but another place of pain. I felt anxiety at a level never experienced before, with depression close behind. I can see why people run to the doctor and get mind benders. I couldn’t function. This couldn’t be happening to me.

Thankfully, I found understanding and camaraderie. I discovered this happens more than I knew. We have cute names for it like “flame out”, “wigged out”, etc. I heard many personal stories from others, many including pharmaceuticals as a relief (and a failure), and it made me feel not so alone. Simply, I had had enough and limited out. It happens in workplaces all over the country everyday.

In the midst of my extreme pain, I knew I was going to come out of this as better person and the first thing to do was to clean up my language. How I talk to people and how I am talked to by my co-workers will be monitored. I will not insult anyone intentionally, nor will I allow an insult to come my way, even the slightest joke. I will be quick to apologize and set the record straight if a joke had unintentional barbs and I will expect others to do the same. It’s an age-old dictum called respect. I will give it and I will demand it from others.

Talking going on in a room, even if you are not in the conversation, has an effect on others. Something I didn’t give a whole lot of thought to beforehand, but I can imagine how the only woman might feel with sexist talk swirling around her on a daily basis. It hurts. This is an example of a sensitivity that has grown in me since my incident.

I am now looking through a stress lens at life. Everyone bitches about work. Nobody leaves work at work, everyone brings it home. Their loved ones get the stick, not the Boss who instigates it. Domestic violence, alcoholism and drug abuse, anti-social PTSD-like behaviors are not inherent in this society but are caused by workplace (or lack of workplace) stress. Many look for relief by obsessive compulsive actions like marathon running, or even further alienating ourselves from the problem by taking a vacation in a strange place with strange people. Running away from it seems to be the only solution.

Applying these hard lessons learned to the art of organizing the work force; I see work place stress as the single most problematic issue to be thought of before a campaign can go forward. There has to be a comfort level before anyone will take a risk, especially about his or her employment. How does a campaign go forward and reduce the stress level? Many times the organizer is the most stressed one of all. I bring this forward for further discussion because I feel the Union has to offer stress relief before any real success will be seen.

How am I doing now? Fine, and many ways better than ever. It can be described as if an entity left me; a huge negative energy came out of my body. All the crap I had eaten in 30 years of workplace silence has drained me and gave me the opportunity to fill up again with a new attitude of, dare I say, love. I didn’t get the drugs society deems so necessary to cope. As is the case for all my personal problems, I try to intellectualize them and go to the library for research. One book waiting for me there was “Meditation for Dummies”. As I leafed through it, passages of extraordinary precise description of my situation shown forth. Not lousy advice like “toughen up”, but an understanding of how the mind can mislead you, how brain static is crippling and how to spend time nurturing yourself. I began immediately and meditation has, in many ways, saved me. I recommend it to everyone as a means of survival in this sick capitalistic society. It’s free and it’s easy.

The workplace is going to kill us all if we continue to fight back on the Boss’s terms. If working people continue to insult each other and diminish each other on a daily basis. If we allow ourselves to talk in a demeaning manner with crude abusive language. The Boss has to sit back and laugh, as we will never be unified. These are the lessons I learned way too late in life; I only wish to share them with my fellow workers trying to create a better world.