On Listening to my own message

Okay… so… sitting here drinking Oprah Chai with a little cone of incense burning.  Dog and cat resting from the latest chew the wump game.  I’m thinking back over the past 7 months… over the past 7 years… over the past few weeks… and over a conversation that I had over listening to the advice I give to people.

I sit here and realize that I had allowed the messages that I was getting from the person I used to report to to get into my head and eat away at my brain.  It’s hard to believe in your own abilities when you get glowing performance reviews and then face a one on one telling you that you probably don’t have what it takes to be a productive member of the team… that you are actually (despite your reviews) probably going to be better off looking for a different job (which I did and I’m very VERY happy I did) because you just really don’t have what it takes and everyone hates working with you anyway.

I keep trying to shake the cobwebs out and every once in a while they creep back in.  This morning I was thinking about the conversation (the one on one where I was summarily told how much I lack) and realize it has been a while since I have thought about it.  That is has been a while since I’ve cared.  And I realized I don’t care.  Does it still sting that every goal that was set for me was snatched from be by the man sitting across the desk because the task was fun and he was bored in his manager role?  Yeah.  Because I like learning and having an effect… making a difference… but… I don’t have to take on his lameness as my own.

A few minutes ago, my cousin posted on her wall… Half a Century… Hear me roar… it’s her 50th birthday today.  And I realized… that… :) I really need to hear my own voice, to listen to the messages that I tout (they are not diatribes, they are not empty messages, sometimes you just have to take the time to shut up and listen to yourself).

It’s the start of a brand new day, a new week… the first day of forever.

Hear me roar…

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