Pages

7.18.2013

GIDDY UP WOULD YA?


I have had a collision of late with my driven fast ways and the culture I am in.  It seems that every place I have lived in my life has their own distinctive cultural nuances.  This place falls suit to that as well.  My frustration level has mounted to new heights this week and bubbled out a time or two.

Today, after yet another experience of sweeping generalities and back tracking, I felt much like the ball and string to a May pole.  I was flailing aimlessly back and forth trying to get solids, absolutes, progress forward, a time table.  They, and by they I mean everyone who is not me or does not have my way of Mid western thinking, were moving slow, speaking in generalities, retracting timetables, not returning calls, moving the wheel at only one degree at a time if I was lucky!

This was not how I was wired at all!  You say what you mean.  You mean what you say.  That is the end of the discussion for me.  I don't care if it's your personal life or in the world of business, that is my creed.  And, if you aren't that way it causes some deep tidal waters to be awakened in me.  I found myself so wound up that if I had a string hanging off me and you pulled it, I would have spun across the room.  Quite a few swear words tumbled out.  Repeatedly.  If you can feel your blood pressure ascend to Mach level 5, mine did.   

I don't know how you work something out of you, but I do it with exercise and preferably, exercise out in nature.  That's just what I did.  I ran down the mountain.  As I felt the wind against my skin, my muscles pulling and working, sweat forming, I was working all that angst out of me.  It had to go somewhere.  It had to come out because it's just not healthy to have that kind of furiousness inside. 

I felt like the guy from the movie "The Green Mile" - poison spilling into the air around me as I descended on the run.  I ran away from the build up, the conflict, and the immovableness of it all.  I couldn't change a culture, a way of business, thinking or conduct.  The only thing my mountain of anger was changing was me - into something I did not want to become.

I felt like George Costanza from "Seinfield" - ragey, spewie, and just off kilter from others not adhering to my code of culture, manner in which transactions should be conducted and the timetable for most everything.  I needed a brown paper bag to breath in to.  I needed a refresher course in Lamaze breathing.  I needed to find my happy place.

Really what I needed was other people to tow the line and move their asses!  Too bad I don't control the universe, Arizona or anything past myself!!

No comments:

Post a Comment