Friday, November 12, 2010

False Evidence Appearing Real

I recently noticed that I have a bad habit of dragging my past into the present whenever I turn my feelings into "facts". Some person, place, thing, situation, or outcome is not what I expect, and  I'm taken out of of my comfort zone of what is known and familiar. Unlike someone whose emotions rockets them to anticipate the unknown as challenging and exciting, my emotions often drag me to anticipate only despair and foreboding. I have a knack for subtly distorting present circumstances with past memories of disappointment, frustration, even betrayal. It is only with persistent and conscious effort is it possible for me to not slip into this whirlpool of negativity and see how I allow my feelings to become false evidence appearing real.

So, as it happened during this third week on the job, an e-mail arrived  from someone I haven't even met asking for me to quickly come up to speed and give a definitive answer by the end of the day to an issue I am still trying to figure out. Well, I don't work well under that kind of stress, and I don't like nasty surprises--yet at the same time,  I don't want to look like I don't know the answer and I'm reticent to ask for help because I'm new on the job. As a result, fears loomed large as memories swirled in my mind of similar circumstances at past jobs where I ended up  as the proverbial baby that was thrown out with the bath water.

But, this time around, something  is different. Although I am a contractor–a hired gun paid from nine to five to do the job–I am given the respect and consideration typically given only to a permanent employee. So, I go to my supervisor and I admit that I don't know enough to respond to the request because I am still new on the job. To my surprise, she agrees and suggests I simply tell the truth that I am still gathering the necessary information to provide an adequate response.

So,  just for today, I am reminded that feelings are not facts...and perhaps my past does not necessarily need to become my present.

The Second Time Around (Postscript)

 I actively pursued many hobbies when I was young : hiking in the Santa Cruz mountains; kayaking on Montterey Bay;  mountain biking to Missi...