A teacher and advocate in the field of spiritual growth
was fired after making ill-considered comments to a coworker. While
acknowledging his own role in the crisis, he was, nevertheless devastated by
it. He wrote to me and, subsequently, gave his permission to reprint our
correspondence. (Scroll down to the last two posts.)
What follows below is an abridged version of a lengthy letter
that he wrote in reply to my first email to him. Tomorrow you’ll read my
response to this letter. In the meantime, notice the richness of images as he
describes his new job; it’s a symbolic goldmine. Were you in a position to
analyze this waking dream, what do you think the metaphoric meanings might be?
David--
Your email is a life-line to me, thank you. Yeah, I understand what you mean. I was unhappy and desperately wanted change, but I was hoping that it would be a rational transition from good to better, not the abrupt "get the hell out of here, you're fired' scenario.
The
thing was, that like I said, my whole identity was wrapped up in it. I wrote
books, was interviewed for podcasts, and people wrote articles about what I
did. But as much as I tried, I could not keep the ego out of it...and I was
burning out or was burnt out.
I
will tell you what job I have now, and see if it means anything to you...
After
I got fired, I put out over fifty resumes and the only one to call me back was
my local, hometown grocery store. My wife already works there...so do two of my
daughters. So, it is actually very cool...to go to work and see my family there
every day. I was always too busy or preoccupied to spend too much time with my
older daughters...now I see them every day.
But,
this is my job. I am now working in the Meat Department as a Perishable Foods
Rep. That means, all day long...I take inventory of what is missing on the meat
shelves...and then run to the back and find, label, wrap, prepare...whatever it
is...and then rush it back out to the front to restock the shelves. And at
night, everyone else goes home, and I stay late to clean the entire meat
market. I hose it all down with a power washer, and wash all the blood, fat,
meat, and filth down the drain. I take the table saws apart, clean them in
detail, clean all the trays the meat cutters have used, clean the meat grinder,
and so forth...
And
before I go home, I have to call a 'manager on duty' and he comes back there
and inspects every inch of the meat market to make sure I didn't miss anything
and that the place is sanitary. If I didn't miss anything...I can clock out and
go home.
This
job is so far from what I used to do... it does...very much...seem like a
DREAM.
Ron
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