Calling All Angels
Yesterday I arrived at work determined to have a good shift. I had slept more than in any previous night this week (eight full hours), it was Friday, and damn it all, it was just going to be a good day. I clocked in at 6:30am, but when I did this I think I actually clocked out of those good intentions. Once I got on the floor and surveyed the landscape, I picked up the negative vibes right away. Or maybe those were actually mine. Who knows. Either way, a slow but steady descent into misery was underway.
Initially I tried to just put it on cruise control and keep a smile going. But as the minutes dragged on (seemingly eternally), I became more interested in everyone else's foul moods around me. People were clearly unhappy and making it known. Heck, why not join in? And so I took the easy way out, and did just that. I continued to perform my job tasks robotically, but inside I felt like my soul was collapsing. I started to hum to myself. That might sound innocous enough, but I have recognized this as one of my escape routes when I feel the need to disconnect from my current situation. It is a defense mechanism, plain and simple, and one that certainly needs closer examination. I have also noticed that it becomes difficult for me to make eye contact with others during these meltdown periods. Oh, and it also feels like a heavy blanket has been thrown over me, though that is probably just a stand-in for the weight of the world. To say that I felt shutdown and burdened was a total understatement.
I felt like running out of the store as if the place was in flames.
This was when I began to ask for help. Not out loud, mind you, but inside. I was lost in space, or at least I was lost somewhere in the depths of my overactive mind. I could not figure out for the life of me why I was even here doing this job for the zillionth time. Nothing made sense. Nothing. Yet after awhile, I didn't care about that anymore. I just wanted this day to end, and yet I had several hours left in my shift. HELP! After a few hours of this internal horror show, I began to get back to basics. I somehow started to smile more naturally, and open myself up to the world again. Right away that seemed to spark a series of conversations with our regular customers which helped clear away the debris of this latest psychic storm and get me back on track.
The first chat was with a woman who comes in every day, twice a day, for her raspberry black iced tea. I made her drink and we began to talk at the drink handoff. She asked me, with a look of concern, how my day was going. I told her, well, it was pretty crappy up to this point. She did not look surprised. I heard myself telling her that I had been doing this job for nearly eight years, and that it was really starting to feel like the time is right to move on. She listened and then told me that even though I seem to put on a good "game face" each day, she could easily see through it lately. Curses. I guess I cannot hide my unhappiness as easily as I thought. During this time the customer flow had miraculously stopped which enabled us to talk for nearly five minutes (that might not seem long, but if you have ever been in Starbucks on a Friday morning, that is an eternity). I listened, she listened, and I swore I could feel the dark clouds over my head evaporating one by one. Whew. I was breathing again. I had escaped misery, but not by humming or blanking out. I did it by sharing.
The very next conversation I had was with another woman who I see every day for her tall americano. She also asked me how my day was going, and remarked that she hoped I was having a better day than I seemed to be having all of this week. OMG. Another regular customer had been picking up on my poorly-covered unhappiness. I surmised that we cannot really hide, from ourselves or each other, no matter how hard we try. And why would we want to? For me, continuing to hide would have made me miss out on this perfectly pleasant and revealing little discussion about happiness that was taking place with this woman. By the time it was done, I was laughing hard. Not only at what we were saying, but at me. I saw the total absurdity in how seriously I was taking myself all morning.
If there were any traces of dark clouds left over my head, they had all disappeared by now. Blue skies were overhead again. The sun was shining on me, and I could feel its warm rays in my mind and heart. I felt light again. And I was sure this transformation could have been seen all over my face, probably just as easily as my previous angst had been detected by these two angels disguised as customers.
I have noticed, especially lately, that I seem to be in the right place at the right time to hear exactly what I need to hear. Interestingly, I don't really know what I need to hear until after it has actually been said. Then and only then do the bells ring loudly. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Thankfully, these eye-opening exchanges are not limited to any one area of my life. I have had several conversations over the past few weeks with people who have been in long-term partnerships for many years. Without any prompting from me, they have divulged the beautiful stories of how they met, and how they have stood the test of time together. Each of these anecdotes inspired me to continue believing that such relationships are indeed possible in this world. And every time I would hear these tales, the bell would go off in my mind. Ding ding ding! I had no idea that I was interested in such information, but upon hearing it, I saw the perfection in their sharing. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and I never even knew it.
During every one of these exchanges, I would thank each of the participants for opening my eyes to something important. Yet every single "angel" that has shown up lately has told me that it must be my own openness to hearing whatever they are saying which has caused the light bulb to go off for me. Ok, good. I must not be hiding as much as I think, or taking those old escape routes as often as I used to.
There is an interconnectedness going on here that is impossible for me to ignore. I think that we are all angels to each other in some way. Learning to pay exquisite attention appears to be the key to finding the angels every single day. If I spend my time looking for ways to escape, how will I ever be able to see or hear an angel in my presence? I truly believe we are all connected, like the most beautifully ornate tapestry ever woven. Individually, we are just threads. But when pieced together, we are a part of something much bigger and more magnificent than we can imagine. I want to be a part of this tapestry. When I stay open, I am a part of it.
Life as a part of a tapestry has so much more to offer than life as a single thread of fabric. Maybe our job as everyday angels is just to learn how to sew.
Initially I tried to just put it on cruise control and keep a smile going. But as the minutes dragged on (seemingly eternally), I became more interested in everyone else's foul moods around me. People were clearly unhappy and making it known. Heck, why not join in? And so I took the easy way out, and did just that. I continued to perform my job tasks robotically, but inside I felt like my soul was collapsing. I started to hum to myself. That might sound innocous enough, but I have recognized this as one of my escape routes when I feel the need to disconnect from my current situation. It is a defense mechanism, plain and simple, and one that certainly needs closer examination. I have also noticed that it becomes difficult for me to make eye contact with others during these meltdown periods. Oh, and it also feels like a heavy blanket has been thrown over me, though that is probably just a stand-in for the weight of the world. To say that I felt shutdown and burdened was a total understatement.
I felt like running out of the store as if the place was in flames.
This was when I began to ask for help. Not out loud, mind you, but inside. I was lost in space, or at least I was lost somewhere in the depths of my overactive mind. I could not figure out for the life of me why I was even here doing this job for the zillionth time. Nothing made sense. Nothing. Yet after awhile, I didn't care about that anymore. I just wanted this day to end, and yet I had several hours left in my shift. HELP! After a few hours of this internal horror show, I began to get back to basics. I somehow started to smile more naturally, and open myself up to the world again. Right away that seemed to spark a series of conversations with our regular customers which helped clear away the debris of this latest psychic storm and get me back on track.
The first chat was with a woman who comes in every day, twice a day, for her raspberry black iced tea. I made her drink and we began to talk at the drink handoff. She asked me, with a look of concern, how my day was going. I told her, well, it was pretty crappy up to this point. She did not look surprised. I heard myself telling her that I had been doing this job for nearly eight years, and that it was really starting to feel like the time is right to move on. She listened and then told me that even though I seem to put on a good "game face" each day, she could easily see through it lately. Curses. I guess I cannot hide my unhappiness as easily as I thought. During this time the customer flow had miraculously stopped which enabled us to talk for nearly five minutes (that might not seem long, but if you have ever been in Starbucks on a Friday morning, that is an eternity). I listened, she listened, and I swore I could feel the dark clouds over my head evaporating one by one. Whew. I was breathing again. I had escaped misery, but not by humming or blanking out. I did it by sharing.
The very next conversation I had was with another woman who I see every day for her tall americano. She also asked me how my day was going, and remarked that she hoped I was having a better day than I seemed to be having all of this week. OMG. Another regular customer had been picking up on my poorly-covered unhappiness. I surmised that we cannot really hide, from ourselves or each other, no matter how hard we try. And why would we want to? For me, continuing to hide would have made me miss out on this perfectly pleasant and revealing little discussion about happiness that was taking place with this woman. By the time it was done, I was laughing hard. Not only at what we were saying, but at me. I saw the total absurdity in how seriously I was taking myself all morning.
If there were any traces of dark clouds left over my head, they had all disappeared by now. Blue skies were overhead again. The sun was shining on me, and I could feel its warm rays in my mind and heart. I felt light again. And I was sure this transformation could have been seen all over my face, probably just as easily as my previous angst had been detected by these two angels disguised as customers.
I have noticed, especially lately, that I seem to be in the right place at the right time to hear exactly what I need to hear. Interestingly, I don't really know what I need to hear until after it has actually been said. Then and only then do the bells ring loudly. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Thankfully, these eye-opening exchanges are not limited to any one area of my life. I have had several conversations over the past few weeks with people who have been in long-term partnerships for many years. Without any prompting from me, they have divulged the beautiful stories of how they met, and how they have stood the test of time together. Each of these anecdotes inspired me to continue believing that such relationships are indeed possible in this world. And every time I would hear these tales, the bell would go off in my mind. Ding ding ding! I had no idea that I was interested in such information, but upon hearing it, I saw the perfection in their sharing. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and I never even knew it.
During every one of these exchanges, I would thank each of the participants for opening my eyes to something important. Yet every single "angel" that has shown up lately has told me that it must be my own openness to hearing whatever they are saying which has caused the light bulb to go off for me. Ok, good. I must not be hiding as much as I think, or taking those old escape routes as often as I used to.
There is an interconnectedness going on here that is impossible for me to ignore. I think that we are all angels to each other in some way. Learning to pay exquisite attention appears to be the key to finding the angels every single day. If I spend my time looking for ways to escape, how will I ever be able to see or hear an angel in my presence? I truly believe we are all connected, like the most beautifully ornate tapestry ever woven. Individually, we are just threads. But when pieced together, we are a part of something much bigger and more magnificent than we can imagine. I want to be a part of this tapestry. When I stay open, I am a part of it.
Life as a part of a tapestry has so much more to offer than life as a single thread of fabric. Maybe our job as everyday angels is just to learn how to sew.
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