At work, there is this position, a one rung up the ladder step up in authority. I could have had it. I could have been the "lead". But you know I did not want it... at all. I know that there was a time that I could have done it, perhaps better than any of the others that are eligible for the job. But now, more and more, I am becoming uncomfortable with confronting people. Even when I am totally convinced I am right and they are wrong... even dangerously wrong... I would rather not say anything.
I think it is a mix of cynicism, the fatalistic belief that any effort on my part would be futile, would not be listened to. And part, not wanting to take on the weight of being right. And part... a big part... the fact I am changed. He has changed me. I am not so invested in being right. Less convinced that there is even a right or wrong way to do things.
It has spread through my thinking. It distorts my perspectives... I watch my peers do things totally against policy, things potentially dangerous and counter to all my beliefs and training and when I ask... "why are you doing it that way"... and they make rationalizations that carry no weight with me. And then I just blink and shrug and say, "Okay." And walk away.
Sometimes I do a reality check. I will ask someone nominally in charge, "Has this policy changed?" And when they tell me "no", I nod, blink and shrug and walk away. It is just slightly disorienting to have the rules changed or have them disregarded around me. I know that I, on some very basic level, am compromising my values. And by my passive acceptance, am made culpable by my very awareness that others are not following policy and my inability to confront them leaves me standing there doing nothing.
I wonder about this. Is it just the sense of leaderlessness that seems to have taken over the whole school? Is it really that Master has finally, finally softened me, found and exploited my submissiveness to the point that I am uncomfortable with assertion? Is it just the resurgence of dark and rainy weather? Is it the story I am working on, the girl so depressed she cannot think or talk or even notice the passage of time that has taken up residence in my head? Or is it just getting old?
In Which I Add to My Shopping List
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