The enlightenment of PKT

As I was walking down the street the other day, still recovering from months of insomnia, nausea, stress and endless hours of working for right winged conservative organization... I spotted a strange old man talking to himself outside of McDonalds. He had a coffee and a large pop. He was sputtering about "teeth not being sent by Medicare or something"
I said, "Hello, good morning to ya!" and he smiled and said”, Would you like to share a cup of coffee with me, my son? Heewak!"
"Sure" I said and sat across him.
"My, you looked a little burned out my friend! Ayuka yuka!" he smiled and gulped down some pop.
"I am.” I sighed.
"Why my son? Whoopee de do!" he said as he passed me some sugar packets.
"Oh, I just got done working at this godforsaken job and it was months ago, and man... I am still burnt out!"
"What was your job? Heewack wacky! He yelled quite loudly.
"A Social Service monkey" I sighed again.
"Oh.”
An eerie silence landed between us.
"But, you must have been doing some good, correct? Wookie wookie!" he smiled.
"I guess,” I said blandly. " Here is the deal though...I was never very happy there. I tried to be positive. I really did. Every night, when I would go to bed, I am thinking that if I make the effort, maybe happiness is within my reach; genuine happiness is out there waiting for me. Yeah, I'll sacrifice my ego and serve those that need help, and I know that is very hard to do, but then something has got to come back to me, ya know, like a feeling of making a difference that should lead to some kind of feeling of happiness..."
"Yes, yes...rooby vroom!" he gleefully exclaimed.
I noticed that he had a strange aura to him. It was if he had a grubby halo around his head. His long scraggly beard seemed to touch the plastic table and mop up the spilled coffee. He sort of looked a weird homeless guru or something...
"Anyway, so I would think these thoughts and then I would try to sleep and I soon as I did, lo and behold... the phone would ring at 5 a.m.! It would be the group home live-in staff claiming that a certain client was, once again, was refusing to go to work. Therefore, off I trudge with little or no sleep, having to drag this poor psychotic screaming woman to work, in the bright early morning rush hour and did not even have a descent breakfast yet! After that, I then have to go into the office cause some stupid receipt for a 1.27 is lost and the minute I step into the office, all those thoughts about happiness fly out the window! I have to deal with the pressures, the demands, my boss is a jerk, and I cannot stand the owner!
And suddenly the idea of internal happiness slips away.
It just evaporates.
Things become so hectic that I barely have a chance to catch my breath, let alone think about myself.
And of course, the company I work for does not give one good fart about my happiness. But, I need to work. I need the money. I can't just quit and get another job.
Man.
And THEN as soon as I have finished putting in 10 hours of work or more, I'm told I have to go do an overnight cause someone quit.
And, I cannot sleep well at other places then my own bedroom...and I have this emergency pager that rings as soon as I have an hour to myself and of course I get that same damn call again at 5 a.m.!
And then it all starts to cycle again. So, how am I to really find some sort of happiness at work?"
"And it isn't just me either." as I gulped down a second cup of Jove. "All the other people that are managers there felt the same way to one degree or another."
"Why is that? Shaboom shaboom. Heewak!" he said as he wolfed down an egg Mcmuffin.
"Well, various reasons, ranging from inadequate compensation, simple boredom, to more complex factors. There were all sorts of things to make us miserable; poor social atmosphere, lack of recognition, too much responsibility laid on one person, and no real chance to create a sense of autonomy, no freedom to do our work in our own way. We didn't get any training and good direction from our bosses but once we were given something that was a clear cut task, we would have our supervisor or actually the big boss breathing down our necks, making no room for creativity or personal initiative. It had to be the PKT way!"
"Hmmm. Too bad. Too bad. Snorkel snort!" He said.
"You wouldn't have any thoughts about how a person could go about increasing a feeling of autonomy or freedom at work?"
"What’s auto mommy?" he asked.
"Oh never mind" I sighed.
"No, please!" he asked.
"Its a feeling of being a sane individual among a team. You feel that you are trusted to make the best decisions for the team. You a mature sane adult...or something like that I guess..."
Oh, yes. Yes! Heewak! Well...I don’t know. He responded. "Of course it would completely depend on the persons' individual circumstances, what position they are in."
"Wow, maybe this guy isn’t so nuts.” I thought.
"Any suggestions?" I asked.
He reflected as he pulled out Mcmuffin crumbs from his beard. "Well, lets take an example of a client of yours locked away at a psych ward. Now of course it aint good to be locked up there, but even then in that situation, where a person is deprived of freedom, he or she can make these small like choices see, ya know.. that they are able to make. And even if someone is locked up, with very bad rules, he can like space out on some hallucinations to lessen his mental anguish, ya know like create a peace of mind. Or ask to just be left alone...to think...to clear his mind. So, then perhaps he can work on his inner development. In fact, I even heard at Anoka psych ward they were even practicing art therapy or visiting with animals to help make a different choice..then just plain suffering."
"Yeah, but you can't have "art therapy" going on at a corporation!" I interjected. They would lock you up in the psych ward with your clients."
"No...no ya dont understand...he exclaimed...So, I am thinking, Hee wack! That if people can do these things even under extreme conditions as the psych ward is, maybe your fellow workers may try to find little things, small choices that they can make in how to do their work. Of course, somebody may work on an assembly line with little variation, but they still have little choices in terms of their attitude, how they interact with co workers, maybe that might help?"
"Of course, when you are talking about rigid rules and lack of freedom, that sure don't mean that you should go blindly following and accept what all them bosses say. When you are being exploited, where this boss guy just thinks in term of profit and it seems like he pays you all a small salary and demands a LOT of overtime, or where you all may be asked to do things that just aren't right or um...what they say...unethical, you shouldn't just think, "well, that's being compassionate and putting others before me. It just my karma, and then take no action. That is where it is not enough to think, "I should just shut up and be content"
"Wow, this homeless dude was blowing my mind.” Who is this guy?" I wondered.
" If there is injustice, then I think just doing nothing is the wrong action. It’s misplaced tolerance or misplaced forbearance. So, in the example of mentally ill people, in the face of injustice generally, misplaced patience or forbearance refers to the sense of endurance that some individuals have when they are subject to a very destructive, negative activity. This is a misplaced forbearance and endurance. Hee wack!"
Was this some homeless psychologist or enlightened deity, I was talking too?
I was spell bound.
"At your work if there is a lot of injustice and exploitation, then to passively tolerate is the wrong response! The real response really is to actively resist it, to try to change this environment rather then just blindly accept it"
"One should take action. Yucka mucka. Heewak!" he exclaimed loudly!
"Of course it again depends on the situation, but one could speak to the boss, with the management, and try to change these things. Hee whoop whoop!"
I fell off my chair laughing hysterically. "We have tried!” I gulped for air. "And what happens if that doesn't work?.
He jumped on the table spilling coffee everywhere.
"Then revolt! Rebel! He screamed.
He laughed hysterically too, but I don't think it had anything to do with what we were discussing.
"That's what I say! Resist exploitation. And if ya have to you might simply have to quit and look for another job””. he cackled as he went to fill up his pop.
I followed.
"Hey, dude, what’s your name?"
"I am called the Dealy Lemur! Or ya can just call me...crazy! Hee wack! Hee wack!"
He filed his cup to the brim with pop. Jumped up and down said "hee wack" a couple more times. He had chased out the frightened customers and then in a flash... was gone!
As I left jacked up on coffee and having a different outlook now, I couldn't but wonder if he used to be a health care worker or something. Dealy Lemur, hmmmmm.
"I have to stop by here again,” I thought.
Perhaps he would have more jewels of wisdom to give, over a cup of this horrible tasting McD's Jove.