Human Decency: The Fairy tale of Selflessness

I had a bit of trouble starting this entry not exactly understanding why this was such a big deal to me until I recognized how many people do not see or do things beyond their own needs.  They grab for themselves with or without any discretion for any other human being not knowing that the greater reward is in self sacrifice or the giving of yourself to another person.

The holiday season, probably more recognized as Thanksgiving and Christmas, seems to be a time where more people give or try to give more than they receive with the idea that it is good karma or makes them a better person.  Now if you have read previous  entries in my blog, you know my feeling on Valentine's Day being the obligation to show love to a person when it should be shown freely instead of required.  Well, it is this time of year that I think people feel this same requirement to extend a hand to others with selfless acts.  I, on the other hand, question 'Why not do this the rest of the year? These people do not need you just once a year, but maybe a little help throughout the year.'

I came across an opportunity mid-November into December at a temporary position employed as an Administrative Assistant in hopes that the title and experience would expand my capabilities in the future.  Now I am one of those that believes things happen for a reason and that people come into our lives for a reason, which I somehow believe was true in this case.  I worked with an agent in the same office, who could probably be mistaken as being 'rough around the edges' with her tough exterior, but I soon found out it was because, like me, she too had been through some rough times; however, she was able to keep her heart warm.

It was between the two holidays that she was sending out correspondence to those who qualify for medical supplement plans to assist them during their transition through the differences in health insurance.  I am not a sales person, but the heart that shown in her sales changed my perspective that not all sales agents are in their lines of business to make a big buck.  One day while sending out her pamphlets she ran into a woman who did not speak English, yet seemed to understand enough to provide a limited amount of mutual communication.  The woman was wrapped up in a blanket in below freezing weather, so the agent offered the woman a ride only to find out that under the blanket was a young toddler not more than a year old.  The agent asked the woman if she had a winter coat as the area was known for its harsh winters.  What was understood was that the woman did not have a coat and due to language limitations did not currently have a job.  

During the holidays I feel that fairy tales are taken for granted as we expect them during the 'happy time of year,' but it is rare to see one in real life.  The agent took the woman to the nearest department store to buy a winter coat for the woman and child only to find out there were two other children in need.  To sum up the 'happily-ever-after' moment, winter gear was purchased for the family members along with groceries and then around Christmas a bag of presents.  It is rare to witness such selfless acts especially when some people do not have the extra funds to spare, but what inspires me from the story is the little things that make a significant difference in a person's life.  

I have always thrived to be that difference to people, to have a positive outlook, and to reach for the stars because everyone deserves that 'happily-ever-after' ending.  Although, I am going to be the first to admit that it is also sometimes one of the hardest roles to play  especially when you are repeatedly knocked down.  Believe me, I understand this is a test of strength even though it does get frustrating to the point of wanting to yell, "Ok, are you done yet! I'd like to move on, please!" So maybe just screaming or yelling out in the country could just be your answer, but that does not take away from the fact that every 'Once upon a time...' contains a hero whose gift is 'happily-ever-after.'

Customer Service: Friend or Foe?

This week has been busy for me and do not get me wrong I am happy, but it has made me realize something; our lives revolve around some form of customer service.

Think about the events during a regular normal day, trying to pretend it is uneventful, and think about how many times you use customer service skills; helping a friend or family member, if you are a cashier checking a person out at a register, if you are an agent monitoring a person's account, or maybe even simply just opening a door for a stranger.  I know the idea may sound a bit funny, but in each scenario provides an opportunity to think about another person or CARE for another person who is putting a lot of trust in you.  You are helping them obtain a set goal in their life even if it is as simple as walking through a door in which you are trusted not to slam it in the other person's face.

In the professional career driven world, some organizations relabeled customer service as customer care, which I feel should be the correct term as the term 'care' is the essential part of the customer service industry.  Ultimately the situations are where one person has a need for another who cares enough to assist, but with all this caring in our professional and private lives, do you ever get tired of caring?

This would be the moment we all become that one irritating person on the end of the phone that most people in the customer service profession hate.  We become irritated wanting our own way and not fully understanding both sides of the situation before we jump to a conclusion.  In my experience, I do understand both sides of the spectrum, but that does not make things any easier when a problem arises.  

Let me give you an example:

This past year my bank sent me a statement on one of my accounts through the mail that was returned to them in April 2014.  My bank then waited six months to try another attempt in October 2014 to validate they did have the correct address, but the post office returned the mail again.  Now, you have to understand that I have a P.O. Box for a specific safety purpose that is paid for every six months and I have recently verified that all my payments have been made by the due date to prevent any issues of my box closing and not receiving any mail.  However, in April the post office closed my box for two days, long enough for the mail from the bank to be returned to the sender.  As for the October issue, well apparently there was no explanation for that one.

As a customer to both organizations, I could have gotten angry, but needed to understand what the situation was as I now had a closed bank account due to the inevitably frustratingly aggravating situation that I had to reopen.  I contacted the bank, who explained the situation about the mail issue, telling me to provide specific information of my own to them to reopen the account that was being closed for my own security. I sent this in and waited....waited....and WAITED!  I called again to find out that the representative did not tell me the joint needed to provide her information as well to reopen the account. (#fail).  The document I provided needed to be sent in again with her information, my information, and both our signatures.  The joint lives three hours away.  I have already wrestled with the bank issue for a month and now I have to wait longer because a representative did not give me ALL the information I needed. #breath #calmdown.

Fine, I understand the bank has policies and procedures they need to follow, but is there not some sort of way to expedite my situation and reopen the account when it is not my fault?  Guess not....so I walked away stomping my feet frustrated because it made me feel better.  Oh, but wait!  The post office.  I went to the post office to check with their representative why my mail was being returned.  I was informed about the box closing in April, for who knows what reason when it was confirmed I did not have a late payment, but the return mail in October could not be explained.  There are no restrictions on my box and both my past married name and maiden name are on the box (because this is the third time this has happened, but was not a huge issue in the past).  I have never seen a more shocked dumbfounded looking in my life.  "I'm sorry. I don't know why this happened."  The representative could not send a letter to the bank to admit the return mail was in error because the bank would not accept it and the bank was just following protocol.  Now we are in the 21st century where the bank account has my email to which my statements are sent electronically, so why was this not used?  FYI...I just threw a stack of papers in the air because I do not have an answer, but apparently neither do they.

Customer service.....Customer care.....

So where was the caring in the whole situation?  No one cared to try other methods of contacting me. #fail No one gave me all the information I needed until multiple contacts later. #fail  No one could change or even guarantee an issue would not arise again even though I had given all the information they requested. #fail  

I could have gotten mad, irate, hysterical, etc., but I did not because I could not control the issue (and apparently neither could the bank or post office).  I would almost dare say that I provided the representatives with more customer care than I received, but I also understand that they could only follow as much information as the company gives them.

We are all human and mistakes happen in businesses that are at times overlooked.  As I demonstrated in my story, you need to understand that the person you are talking to may only be the messenger in the whole situation and trust me...you can't kill them...it's illegal.  I try to keep this in mind when inquiring on situations where I need to speak to a representative, but then as a representative, I also keep in mind that this person is calling me for a reason.  This person trusts that I will have an answer, if not, be able to find the answer because that is my job and I represent the company.  Sadly, it is this representation and association that gets you yelled at as a representative because to the person on the other end, you ARE the company, the one who messed up.

So what do I do now?  Well, I keep the post office in check as they have proven not to be worthy of my trust that I now have to supervise them.  I give the bank what they need for my account praying someone can expedite the situation as they see that I have gone the extra mile on my side of the event...and then wait, because I have no other choice.

I guess after this issue, being asked about my customer service experience for a second job, and seeing how much the agent I currently work for cares for her customers I felt the need to say something in hopes that in the midst of frustration we can care enough to see both and maybe solve problems a bit more efficiently through calm rationality.

Statement of Fear

Today I was thinking about all the different things I could be doing other than being at work, like laundry, dishes, and there was the thought of my statement of purpose for grad school.  It will sound silly to most of you who read this because the piece is required to have 200-500 words explaining 'why me?' for this program.  I will say it also took me awhile to figure out what piece of my personal writing to submit also, which I did find after some inspiration reflecting that I understand fiction and can analyze it.

I still have a little time before my statement of purpose it due, still I am afraid that what I write will not be 'good enough.'  Yes, I will say I am a verbal artist even though for this piece I am utterly...speechless? wordless? artistically useless?  I want to express how every day I wake up wanting to put a pen in my hand and watch the ink bleed into the paper creating an imaginative world with adventures and journeys outside of reality or that I crave the smooth water-like feeling of computer keys against my figures as the words visually create brush strokes with no brush.  How do I express something I am so passionate about that if it does not exist I would feel a part of me died as this if my first thought in the morning and my last thought before I go to bed?  I keep writing this piece to submit over and over because I do not think what I am writing is 'good enough,' even by my own standard, then again I am a perfectionist who fears failure.

This week I realized my statement of purpose is not my only fear in relation to writing.  Winter is among us and my hands hurt to the point of tears, at least lately.  Within the last year I saw a rheumatologist who told me that I have Psoriatic Arthritis, which affects my skin and my joints.  A long time ago, sometime after my siblings and I had lice, I saw a doctor who told me I had Psoriasis, which is a skin disease where my skin cells develop faster than normal that eventually create itchy scaly patches in specific parts of my body.  Psoriasis is an autoimmune disease, meaning my body is basically attacking itself. (Side note from my morbid sense of humor: Could this be considered an uncontrollable type of suicide?-I apologize if that is not funny to you, but I am not a serious persona at heart).  The arthritis that is developed in people who have Psoriasis is also autoimmune mainly in the joints, leaving them swollen and sometimes a bit unmanageable.

Are you wondering why I told you all this yet?  If you must know, I am a very independent person to the point that sometimes I believe it is better to just depend on yourself so that no one else can hurt you or let you down.  With this theory in mind, I am scared that someday my hands will let me down and I will have to be on some form of disability, unable to write or express all the passion I have inside for things in life.  This is my weakness and I am not meant to be weak!  

I understand there are worse things out there, diseases more severe that take away pieces of people, but that does not necessarily make my fear or their fear any different  because these things take away a piece of the people they inhabit.  Now, I feel for those people, I really do, but for the purpose of this entry I am telling my story from my point of view knowing that somewhere someone has similar feelings and they are not alone.  Each moment my fingers grow cold, swell up more than usual, or just become utterly painful I do cry because I am not only losing my fingers, but an entity of me and I have already lost myself once in my lifetime.  That, however, is another story, but I am not going to end this post on a 'woe is me note,' because that is not me.  

I have learned, in the last couple years, that the things we fear the most are the things we want/need the most.  I want to write and I need to write because I cannot... no...I will not let a piece of me die.  So like any other strong person facing an obstacle, I prolong the inevitable as long as I can through the use of medication, keeping my hands warm, exercising regularly to keep my blood flowing properly like I did with my knees, and continue to write what I can.  I guess you could almost compare this to the saying of 'it is better to loved and lost, than to have never loved at all' because as long as I do what I love, I cannot feel lost. (Excuse me, time to warm up the hands :P)

The 'Always' of 'Be Coming'

I have been doing a lot of talking with friends these days about life changes, wondering about how many times in our lives do we change on a personal note.  Now a smartass would say that we are changing constantly.  Well, duh, but when do we get to the point of satisfaction or where we want to be in our growing state of mind?

I kept coming back to the phrase ‘coming of age,’ which in its true self is a vague term.  What defines a coming of age?  Internet sources such as Wikipedia and Webster’s Dictionary say that ‘coming of age’ is when we become an adult.  Based on that statement alone a part of me screams “I am not growing up and you cannot make me.’  However, what is growing up or becoming an adult?

Yes, I took a lot of time to think about this.  Is becoming an adult the legal side where, ‘let’s pick an age and say you can do what your parents do?’  Is being an adult an amount of maturity you have based on responsibility and obligation?  Maybe being an adult is like entering a secret society where you have a ‘right of passage’ with actions that prove your commitment.  FYI, my inner child is still rejecting every definition of growing up and being an adult.  I do not know about the rest of you reading this, but picking a number out of a hat seems unethical, as there is no criterion for it.  Maturity is subjective these days with the help from the set legalized adult age and not everyone wants to be in a secret society with uncalled for obligations.

I am sure anyone reading this is in question where this is exactly going.  It is going to a point that no matter your age, like the defined child, we are all a bit lost in the definition of who we are.  I will be the first to admit that I have been in this position, revisiting the thought every now and again  to confirm that I am following what will make my life ‘worth it’ to me.  At thirty years young, (yes, I am thirty and yes, I still feel young thank you very much), I am slowly revamping the puzzle pieces of my life.  By this time in my life I wanted to be married to a man who truly loved me for me as passionately as I love him, have a child or two, and be working somewhere that makes me want to get up in the morning.  Well as life may have it, I was married to a guy who was passionately in love with every insecure female in five different towns (that have been verified), I do not have any children from him (thank God) or any other man, and my current career is under construction.  The process feels like a second chance in the defined stage of ‘coming of age.’ *snerk* I have to chuckle as I write this because the here and now is not where I wanted/planned to be at all.  Now this does not mean I am not optimistic about things to come, however, sometimes my impatience gets to me.

Life is not set in stone nor does it follow a specific plan no matter what others may think, but it does follow a plan, I believe that we are all here for a purpose and until it fulfilled, we remain where we are in each living moment.  So when are we 'finalized'?  To me, this means we are always at some 'coming of age' type period, always and forever changing/improving.

A friend of mine this week confessed how lost this person feels thinking that life would be different also.  The advice I gave was to set one goal and find how you are going to meet that goal because until you meet one goal the other goals will just fall apart since they are not receiving your full attention.  For me, my goal is to leave the town I was forced to live and find my own place.  Living a life that someone else has forced upon you is surrendering and I am too strong for that.  It took a lot of time to think things like through, so I decided to write it down in a book I am working on publishing.  I someday hope that in print it will not be as confusing as it felt, but a better vision of a realization.

Amazing Connections

Today I was thinking about connections and how each person has some small thing that relates them to something or someone else.  The idea started when I left my apartment to go mail some letters at the post office and check my post office box.  One of the letters was to my mom sprinkled with ladybug stickers and a quote from the movie Under the Tuscan Sun.  I love the movie, not the book, because it portrays turning something negative into something positive even if it was not quite how you pictured it. 

The quote, in brief, was about when Katherine, one of the main characters, was describing a childhood memory of a time where she was trying to find ladybugs in the field, but was not having any luck.  She grew tired and decided to take a nap.  When she awoke, she was covered in ladybugs.  From this, you are probably thinking that the lesson lies along the lines of 'patience is a virtue' or the idea that when you do not concentrate so hard on something, it will come to you in time.  I have heard other stories similar to the idea, like if you catch a butterfly hold it gently because if you hold on to it too tight you will kill it.  

So I put this letter to my mom in the mail, sensing that she had been missing her best friend who had passed away earlier this year, one week after my birthday, from cancer.  The feeling I get, even as I type the words, is extreme loss and utter confusion.  I may share with people bits of me and consider people friends, but then there are those select few who know or just about know everything about you.  That was the type of friend this woman was to my mom and to our family, so it is hard to just 'get over' that type of love.

After the letter was in the drop box, I went over to my post office box to find a thick envelope...from my mom.  Now this may sound silly to many who read this, but I broke down and cried even before I opened the letter knowing that she had done the same thing I just did to her a few seconds ago.  I stood for a moment in front of my box in disbelief as I appreciated this extremely rare connection I had with my mother.  We have not talked for a couple weeks, yet we both knew just what the other one needed.

Now I know that many of you will think that this connection is obvious because it is based on mother and daughter, but there is more.  I do pray that when she is gone that there is someone who is that close and knows exactly what I mean even when I hold back, telling that person not to do something in fear a weakness will be shone.  

In my everyday life I do see similar connections, like when you text a friend just as the friend was in the middle of texting you or when someone notices something that everyone else misses, like the color of your eyes and that you did something different with your make up.  Both of these scenarios have happened to me and makes me think 'What makes me so important that you noticed something so insignificant about me?'  Let me clarify, it is not that I am not important, but important to that person at that moment.  For instance, the eye example was from a guy I barely knew, but then again maybe he is like me and just notices things about people that others commonly miss.

I continue this night feeling a bit lost as it appears that some of the people closest to me do not seem to understand me, while the people I barely know are able to see those things that are missed.  If anything, these just give me hope that there are people in my life whom I am connected to that are just as important as my mom no matter how small that connection may be, but it also gives me hope that if one person can see at least one insignificant thing about me then that person must obviously be able to see more than what meets the eye.

Embrace the Beauty in Darkness

The last few days I tried to rest my mind, but unfortunately, it is processing difficult problems in many venues of my personal life as well as others leaving me what others may describe as a bit dark.  It is common in society that 'dark' is negatively foreseen to cause damage in the simple comparison that light is assumed to be the reflection of an angel while dark is the reflection of a demon.  However, what if dark was actually beautiful and the ignorance of society was completely overlooking what could be a solution instead of a problem?

With society's stereotypical idea that dark is bad and light is good we seem to forget that without one we do not have the other, that means the two words define each other working hand in hand like any healthy relationship should.  To simplify, it is called balance or sometimes referred to as a theory based on Ying and Yang.  Light cannot exist without dark, but keep in mind that in many myths or legends that dark was created from light, but that is another tangent that is not meant for the analyzation of this blog.  So if one cannot exist without the other, how does that make dark labeled bad when it is actually doing ‘good’ in defining light?

Beyond the definition of the angel on one shoulder and the demon on the other, everyone has a light and dark side to their personality at some point in time, which is part of compatibility with others and our environment.  This can be something we become codependent upon, but what if it is something that we utilize and turn into something good?  For example,  as I write this it is October, which is a month commonly known for Breast Cancer awareness, which to society is bad because it is something that kills, taking some of the most precious people in our lives and trust me, I know this feeling as someone was taken from me due to this illness.  Now think of everything that has birthed from the condition that is labeled bad or even a dark topic to discuss and consider.  Society is trying to find cures for the illness and trying to prevent it from ever developing in the first place, which would mean people would live longer when the realization is that we all die at some point.  Now if someone close to you has passed away from the illness, think about the impact that person had on you to which I am sure most of you cannot tell me there was any darkness associated with this person.  In fact, if the person was anything like the person close to me that passed away from the illness, that person was rather inspiring who empowered those around her/him because of that person’s big heart.  We hear stories of people who have cancer and how they make a difference with their outlook on life, which inspires people around them, so how can something as dark as this disease be completely bad?  I apologize if this is misinterpreted into some morbid psychopathic idea and anyone is offended as this is not my intention.

Subsequently, what are my true thoughts on something being described as dark?  I believe that it is a type of inspiration that gives the ability to see everyday things in our lives through a different perspective allowing us to explore new aspects of life that are meant to teach us something.  With this in mind I think of artists that produce dark form of art in visual forms, literary forms, or even musically.  Considering I spend most of my time in the literary world, I think of how popular the writings of Edgar Allan Poe have become after the man has long since passed away and how misunderstood his darkness was to the world during his time.  Today some consider him a magnificent writer beyond his time even those around him did not understand the beauty in his writings only to deem him as crazy. 

So, when did dark become something negative instead of being used as a tool utilized in the progression of something positive?  Could something dark be the first step on a path to  something great that would change many life-altering things or be an obstacle to challenge and prove our self-worth? How would stories end in ‘happily-ever-after’ if there were no darkness or would the story-line not have anything to aspire to become? 

Why not embrace the power darkness to give you the power to direct you to the light, for is it not in darkness we dream in the night leading us to become something inspiring during the light of day?

 from: photo.99px.ru

Simple and Small Pleasures: Stop to smell the roses

In a previous post I referenced something I call "The Proximity Drug," which is basically the high feeling you get from being around particular people, but then there are those simple small pleasures in life that make you smile for just a brief moment realizing that you are where you are needed.  I have one of these every so often and lately it has been more frequent.

I never really started to pay attention to these moments until about a month ago.  I was having a terrible day, the kind where you realize you should have never gotten out of bed, so I ditched my regular healthy diet and decided to get a bacon cheeseburger pizza slice from the pizza joint down the street from where I was working at the time.  I used to frequent this place at least once a week for the bacon cheeseburger pizza specifically until one of the employees there knew my order by heart.  I will say I appreciate when that happens because it makes their service faster as well as me getting to eating faster.  Anyway, I had not visited the pizza place for quite some time, so to walk in to be acknowledged like I was a missed friend felt great.  Not only had I felt special for being missed, but I had recently become a blonde and was self-conscious on the change.  The employee took a second look at me with a smile on his face as he got my pizza for me.  

Me: "What?"

Employee: "I like your hair."

Me: "Oh, thanks"

Employee: "It is really pretty and brings out your eyes."

Yes, I blushed, I'll admit it.  However, my self-conscious feeling dissipated.  Until that one brief moment, my day had weighted me down to the point that I did not care about anything, but that one employee changed all that.  No, my day did not change too much, but my attitude did.  I felt safe and secure enough to conquer the world, even though that is not my quest in life.  I could....I could be Wonder Woman, confident enough to walk around in crazy bright spandex.  HAHA...Nah!  Either way, I felt good.

Within the last month or two, I became a member of the YMCA with the intention to improve my health on my own like I had done before, but to also just pass under the radar of anyone there because of certain painful situations that I intended to avoid. My weight began to plateau, so I thought I would try something new by adding a group fitness class.  

I took the Zumba class since I had a bit of experience thinking I could sink into the background.  I do not know what happened, but by golly Harry Potter's invisibility cloak was removed.  I remember one day one of the people from class asked how I was doing as she knew a little bit about some challenges I was and am currently still facing.  I am cursed with vague honesty, so I told her that I was basically 'hanging in there.'  Then she said something that I did not expect.  I could not believe the words came out of her mouth since I barely knew her and once they were set free I prayed that my face did not reveal the shock I was in.  She told me she had been praying for me.  Now, I am not the most religious person nor am I not a religious person...it's complicated right now, but those words stayed in my head for a long time.  They actually still  come back to me at certain moments (like this one).  Since then, this person has inadvertently done a few other things that I appreciate or needed motivation for, but for now I might just ride the inspiration until it is time to tell her, "You made a difference in my life, thank you."

There have been other brief moments like when one of the desk jockies acknowledges my attendance at the gym or even a brief acknowledgement from a familiar face with a smile that makes you want to smile also.  So, you see stopping to smell the roses is not a waste of time as some may think, but more of a small gift that is given in small doses to make sure you appreciate every piece individually and then as a whole.  I am hoping that at some point in my life I could/can/am this type of inspiration to someone else because to me it is a very rewarding position, but for now I am going to be gracious for this tidbits and smell a few more roses on the way.