I would rather stumble and even fall under the weight of my own dreams than excell in the pursuit of someone elses.
Me.
11 October 2007
08 October 2007
Dancing with the Devil in the Pale Halogen Lights
At what point in the job search process does the art of selling yourself becomes the tantalizing tango of selling your soul?
What you say/What you think
Yes, I can do that/Why would I want to
Yes, I can work weekends./But I won't
Yes, I can fax, copy, collate, staple and Fed-Ex that/Do you want Fries with that?
No, I don't mind multi-tasking/Idiot
Yes, I can get you more coffee/F***ing Idiot
Please, I don't have enough to do./Someone shoot me, please. Just shoot me.
You'd think by this stage in my life with as many bouts with unemployment as I've endured I would have the whole interviewing for a job that I want, can do, and am willing to do down pat. Maybe I'm jaded, I think I shouldn't *have* to go through all this because I'm just that good. No, really I am. But how do you sell yourself without selling your soul.
It comes down to I have to work, I need to keep a roof over my head until I get published well enough to support myself as a writer. But if you tell people without a sense of humor (and believe me we that have are acutely aware of how the majority of the world doesn't have) they seem to think that your loyalty to your passion will somehow diminish your effort to their proletarian goals for the company. They think they have a life outside of their job, but when they boast about the hours they've put in instead of the sunset they missed the night before, or how many presentations they were able to crank out instead of the blossoms in their garden then they really have no concept of the whole passion thing and they will never understand or accept anything less from their overworked and underpaid minions. I don't want to sellmy soul for an hourly wage, yet I have to keep pace with the world in order to support my passions. My biggest fear is that I will eventually slip on this razors edge and eventually be consumed again by the hemoglobin dependant task masters in the corporate hells we sell ourselves to.
(Sorry, no visual to express myself today. I googled "Faustian contract" and "selling my soul to the devil" and all I got were images of Eva Mendez, Nicole Richie and Mickey Mouse. I have NO idea what that means other than it looks like Mickey has won market share in hell.)
What you say/What you think
Yes, I can do that/Why would I want to
Yes, I can work weekends./But I won't
Yes, I can fax, copy, collate, staple and Fed-Ex that/Do you want Fries with that?
No, I don't mind multi-tasking/Idiot
Yes, I can get you more coffee/F***ing Idiot
Please, I don't have enough to do./Someone shoot me, please. Just shoot me.
You'd think by this stage in my life with as many bouts with unemployment as I've endured I would have the whole interviewing for a job that I want, can do, and am willing to do down pat. Maybe I'm jaded, I think I shouldn't *have* to go through all this because I'm just that good. No, really I am. But how do you sell yourself without selling your soul.
It comes down to I have to work, I need to keep a roof over my head until I get published well enough to support myself as a writer. But if you tell people without a sense of humor (and believe me we that have are acutely aware of how the majority of the world doesn't have) they seem to think that your loyalty to your passion will somehow diminish your effort to their proletarian goals for the company. They think they have a life outside of their job, but when they boast about the hours they've put in instead of the sunset they missed the night before, or how many presentations they were able to crank out instead of the blossoms in their garden then they really have no concept of the whole passion thing and they will never understand or accept anything less from their overworked and underpaid minions. I don't want to sellmy soul for an hourly wage, yet I have to keep pace with the world in order to support my passions. My biggest fear is that I will eventually slip on this razors edge and eventually be consumed again by the hemoglobin dependant task masters in the corporate hells we sell ourselves to.
(Sorry, no visual to express myself today. I googled "Faustian contract" and "selling my soul to the devil" and all I got were images of Eva Mendez, Nicole Richie and Mickey Mouse. I have NO idea what that means other than it looks like Mickey has won market share in hell.)
02 October 2007
On Death
Christ taught that we should be a light unto the world, the Dalai Lama has finished the thought as to why....
When you die you go alone, and the only light to accompany you derives from the spiritual practice or positive acts you have done. -The Dalai Lama
When you die you go alone, and the only light to accompany you derives from the spiritual practice or positive acts you have done. -The Dalai Lama
01 October 2007
My Own Mythology
This weekend on NPR (PRI) on This American Life there was the history of a father with a directionless rudder allowing him to become whatever the tides of society dictated for that decade. It got me thinking about my mom and my life. I realized on some level the narrator and I shared a lot of the same experiences, only hers were more violent and damaging in ways than mine. Where her father lived in Movies like Ice Storm my mom lived in ones like Gone With The Wind and Donna Reed.
As easy as it is to always cram Mom into molds and say things like above, the truth of the matter is I live in my own Mythology. I guess we all to do some extent. I believe that I am a writer of worth yet with nothing published to make this myth reality. I believe that I am cultured and refined because I love opera when in reality I still cling to the morass of images displayed on the proletariat driven television. The list goes on and on I just don't want to bring all my faults into the light.
I have always wanted to be more than I am and in the past the simple desire has been enough to sustain me. Now that I'm reaching for the more authentic in life I find myself discontent on the mere morsels that mythology has to offer. I'm starved for the sustenance of the here and the now. Maybe that's what college was supposed to teach me but I was too disconnected with my desperate attempt to hold onto the mythology that I never allowed myself to grow. Now that I'm reaching forward, looking forward, living forward I find it difficult to feel my footing under me, to trust in the unseen hand of fate and faith.
I'm trapped in the netherworld between myth and authenticity. I guess my only recourse is to keep my eyes towards the light as I try to leave the world of shadows and hope to find myself, for the first time, on solid ground living the life I've always dreamed.
As easy as it is to always cram Mom into molds and say things like above, the truth of the matter is I live in my own Mythology. I guess we all to do some extent. I believe that I am a writer of worth yet with nothing published to make this myth reality. I believe that I am cultured and refined because I love opera when in reality I still cling to the morass of images displayed on the proletariat driven television. The list goes on and on I just don't want to bring all my faults into the light.
I have always wanted to be more than I am and in the past the simple desire has been enough to sustain me. Now that I'm reaching for the more authentic in life I find myself discontent on the mere morsels that mythology has to offer. I'm starved for the sustenance of the here and the now. Maybe that's what college was supposed to teach me but I was too disconnected with my desperate attempt to hold onto the mythology that I never allowed myself to grow. Now that I'm reaching forward, looking forward, living forward I find it difficult to feel my footing under me, to trust in the unseen hand of fate and faith.
I'm trapped in the netherworld between myth and authenticity. I guess my only recourse is to keep my eyes towards the light as I try to leave the world of shadows and hope to find myself, for the first time, on solid ground living the life I've always dreamed.
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