Cog in the Machine

I enjoy the sound of rain late at night. It has a rather calming effect on me. I appreciate sitting outside my apartment watching it fall. Part of the appeal it has for me that it feels like the rain is cleansing the environment, i.e. the land, the atmosphere, life itself. An eco-friendly baptism of sorts, perhaps? If not baptism, it becomes the water to absolutin for those of us that feel unclean.

Lately, I have felt unclean, sort of tainted. I recently returned from a work related conference out of town around increasing performance productivity. I went as part of my obligation to amass a certain amount of continuing education hours. At the conference, I learned ways to increase my effectiveness as an administrator and motivate others. That was helpful, to some degree.

My concern is not around what I learned related to work performance. It was the culture of expectation permeating the conference that made me uncomfortable. For the sake of increasing effectiveness, I, as an individual, am reduced to being a cog in the machine, an automated robot scripted to say the "right" words, "do" the right things, and think the "right" thoughts. Resistance is futile.

This conference was about coaching the attendees into following a particular paradigm. Underneath the rhetoric of success is a corporate push to achieve at all costs. Of course, the program materials was not written in that way. Otherwise, it would sound rather dehumanizing. Yet, in a post-9/11 area, conformity is the norm; individuality is held suspect.

It was disturbing to be cajoled into parroting back the conference rhetoric. We offered testimony of how our professional lives had been altered for the better, because of the paradigm of success. God have mercy on us, because we plotted ways to alienate our colleagues that did not give allegiance to the prescribed paradigm. It seemed like a virtual reality, almost matrix by design. It was not safe to "wake up" from this nightmare.

My self-administered antidote was to pray, as a means to keep my center. It was the way I could remember my truth. The recitation of prayer kept me focused and awake. I was crying our like a voice in the wilderness. My pleas were earnest, heart felt petitions to keep my sanity, as well as my compassion for others.

I am tainted, because I continue with the perks of the corporate, consumer culture. I have to pretend to be asleep to be a part of the system. I guess food, clothing and shelter are as paramount to personal integrity and autonomy. I am in a world that I hope I will not succumb to being off that world. I still can't believe I paid out of pocket for this trip.