I've not written for a long time, so allow me to fill everyone in; since 27-Jan-2014 I've changed jobs and am now a Production Supervisor. For the first time in my life I 20+ direct reports across compounding, equipment and component prep areas. I don't expect that to mean anything to anyone, but what it does signify is that from 1700 to 0700 on my 'On' days I can be found in any corner of the plant taking care of various issues and activities for one of the three areas. Fourteen hours seems more like four and I absolutely thrive off of the fast and high stress environment. There is way too much excitement to get tired; regardless, at 0800 I sleep like the dead despite sunshine and the noise of the day walkers with the aid of an eye mask and ear plugs.
Since this promotion is the first step on my way up to the Big-Dog's League of upper management it is essential that I perform exceptionally, and once again the only obstacle I find standing in my way is my old archetypical friend: The Shit-Talker. My inner Shit-Talker has gotten me into trouble since the day I could open my mouth and make sounds. Indeed, my Mother delights in sharing stories of my youth where my complete lack of filter has led to both her extreme embarrassment and entertainment. This time however, if not tempered by the light of self-awareness, this aspect of my personality will cast my professionalism into doubt and will authentically endanger my chances of obtaining my career aspirations.
I got caught you see, caught talking shit about my own Supervisor. Given my outlandish frankness, I did not make many attempts to hide my sentiments. I had my reasons for doing it, and mostly I thought it was going to earn me the trust and support of a couple of my more difficult employees. Today, however, the error of this strategy finally struck me and I have only to be extremely grateful that my Supervisor is one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and someone that I now see I had figured completely wrong (in itself a blow to my ego). They are someone from whom I will learn monumentally to my benefit since they lead by example and shutdown undesirable behavior by something simple, yet something I've never understood: Silence.
It is now clear to me that I must change my approach with these employees. Instead of enabling the drama of the past that I cannot change, I must learn to starve it to death with silence and non-reactivity. That is the idea, my first plan for a solution. I must meditate on this stoic approach to help guide me out of a behavior that does not come naturally to me. Simply put, if I don't want to be a Shit-Eater and fail in my ambitions, than I can no longer be the Shit-Talker. If one Talks Shit, one will most certainly Eat Shit. All one has to realize is that they, themselves, holds the fork full of the excrement they're about to feed themselves, and the only way to avoid taking the bit it to keep their mouths shut.
Do I expect to eat more shit throughout my life? Yes, old habits die hard and humans are nothing if not creatures of habit; but I feel I've finally eaten enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth, and I'll at least be less likely to partake of the ill-intended Shit Sandwich I've
crafted for myself.
Since this promotion is the first step on my way up to the Big-Dog's League of upper management it is essential that I perform exceptionally, and once again the only obstacle I find standing in my way is my old archetypical friend: The Shit-Talker. My inner Shit-Talker has gotten me into trouble since the day I could open my mouth and make sounds. Indeed, my Mother delights in sharing stories of my youth where my complete lack of filter has led to both her extreme embarrassment and entertainment. This time however, if not tempered by the light of self-awareness, this aspect of my personality will cast my professionalism into doubt and will authentically endanger my chances of obtaining my career aspirations.
It is now clear to me that I must change my approach with these employees. Instead of enabling the drama of the past that I cannot change, I must learn to starve it to death with silence and non-reactivity. That is the idea, my first plan for a solution. I must meditate on this stoic approach to help guide me out of a behavior that does not come naturally to me. Simply put, if I don't want to be a Shit-Eater and fail in my ambitions, than I can no longer be the Shit-Talker. If one Talks Shit, one will most certainly Eat Shit. All one has to realize is that they, themselves, holds the fork full of the excrement they're about to feed themselves, and the only way to avoid taking the bit it to keep their mouths shut.
Do I expect to eat more shit throughout my life? Yes, old habits die hard and humans are nothing if not creatures of habit; but I feel I've finally eaten enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth, and I'll at least be less likely to partake of the ill-intended Shit Sandwich I've
crafted for myself.
