I've been on this train before... (Originally published on May 6, 2009)

On Monday, I attempted to resign. I don't know if any of you have had a resignation not accepted. This is the second time for me. I've spent the last few days meeting with supervisors. Analyzing the reasons I'm leaving.

The end result still hasn't played out.

You may ask yourself why anyone would leave a job now. The answer is simple: I stopped caring. It might sound silly, but I've never worked for money. Not for long at least. I work to create, to invent, to make some mark on the world. As a result, I'm a strange employee. I work like the devil. I throw everything I can at a body of work and attempt to make something I'm proud of. I do this at a cost. I am necessary to my employer, not the other way around. I also won't tolerate shoddy work in either myself or others. I will probably be the manager everyone hates one day.

At the end of last year I realized a great many things, only a couple were work related. I worked miracle after miracle to produce some amazing products. It took most of what I had. At the same time, I threw blood and sweat at another product. A product that was subpar and in the end of December, I put out what I consider a piece of junk. I visited with my family immediately after. By Christmas I knew I couldn't stay. The miracle worker had made history. There was no reward. And, I had produced something I wasn't proud of because it was "necessary".

It's now 5 months later. I continue to be asked to put out crap just to meet a date and I have done so. I don't care about the work I am doing. For me, that means I simply stop doing it.

Now comes the odd part, trying to explain all this to a bunch of people who don't want to hear it. When the miracle worker starts to walk away, everyone panics.

But now, the train ride is over I'm off to work.

I generally wait to write.. (Originally published on May 20, 2009)

...until I have put some time between myself and the event. Perhaps I should now, but I felt the need to write.

On Saturday night, my grandparents were in an automobile accident. My grandmother (whom we called Mom Mom) was pronounced dead at the scene. My grandfather (whom we called Pop Pop) did not survive the night.

No abstracts, no concepts, just a moment in time which changed lives. It's Wednesday now and nothing seems to feel right. The words are wrong. Everything seems to be disengenuous. I've been disconnected somehow. I simply don't have any energy.

Sometimes your physical body makes it utterly clear what is going on. Sometimes your chest really does feel like it is going to explode as your heart tries to join with itself. Sometimes the weight does actually get lifted off your shoulders. And sometimes, unfortunately, your body let's you know that it is weakened. The power leaves your shoulders, everything seems to just slump.

I am lucky. My shoulders do not give way when someone is leaning on them. Crying on the train might be off putting to passengers, but it does not cause a chain reaction.

Of course, putting that in a blog was probably a bad idea. Here's hoping others wait to read...

I used to write all the time... (Originally published on May 21, 2009)

...but that was a long time ago. The printed or ethereal page was a sounding board. Then something happened. Frank discovered people. The world is full of sounding boards. If you continue to to simply take your own counsel, you will learn a great deal about yourself but very little about other subjects.

But sometimes you are on the train and there are no sounding boards.

I have been surrounded by empathy recently. In some cases, I thought it contrived... but regardless of the connection I might share with someone, there are connections that always exist between people. They don't have to know you. They don't have to know someone that has died. What they do know to varying degrees is loss.

I have a habit of thinking that loss was direct and almost quantifiable. I was so much older than, I'm younger than that now.

I've often spoke of funeral services. I have own opinions about ritualized burial practices and always will. But I'm learning. I'm learning that the connections a person makes are not often known to their family or friends and although a holy man may not have known the person they are speaking about, they do know grief. They do know loss. They are the amazing combination of characteristics that make us human.

I thank everyone for their regards and their reactions whatever they may be. I have so much to learn. The fact that my boss might actually be human is just one of those things. The fact that Catholic priests can cry is another. The fact that some people may choose to have someone officiate a memorial service precisely because he or she will maintain composure is another.

I have recently seen a support structure appear out of nowhere. I am lucky in that I knew it was their but I don't think I've ever paid attention as it manifested. We humans are amazing creatures. We even spread loss. A person deeply wounded will have a ring of loved ones. Each member of that ring will have their own support staff. The result being that everyone has someone to lean on.

I love you all. I am prepared to give strength because of you. I thank all those that will never read... all those that are supporting myself and others either directly or indirectly.

I am regularly amazed by what humans can accomplish when they get together. I wasn't expecting another reminder.