I had one of those moments where I read something in “Daring Greatly” by Dr. Brene Brown a few days ago and it resonated inside me.  It was palpable.  The words jumped off the page and metaphorically knocked me to the ground. It was a wake up call. The keyword for this blog is “disengagement.”  It describes me and my attitude at work so dang well.  I should have been able to see that on my own without having to read it in a book, yet I didn’t.  I guess it’s a forest/trees kind of thing.  I don’t mean this blog to rag on my job. However, I do think this is a problem and I cannot be the only one facing it. Perhaps one or more people can relate. And if anyone reading has overcame this, please comment or get in touch with me and offer some advice.

I had to sit back and think about when this shift and disengagement all began. A huge turning point was July 18^th, my 11 year anniversary at work. A former co-worker (and someone I considered a friend up until that day) sent me some very hateful texts. It’s one thing to tell someone things they don’t want to hear–Lord don’t I know that—but it’s your intent that really makes a difference. Do you come from a place of love to offer your words or are you coming in as a critic and bully? The things I was accused of and names I was called really could only come from a place with no good intended. And it really did something to me. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, I gave someone my power. And it really wasn’t all that surprising to be honest. We’d discussed my job before, obviously. But I think, on some level, I let those words affect me WAY more than they should. I’ve been pretty down and disengaged since then.

I want to innovate, be creative, and make a difference. And I’m at a position where I feel I cannot do any of those things. Maybe this is burn out. Maybe this is ordinary. And I cannot stress how much I do not want to sound ungrateful, but maybe this has been in the making from day one. All I will say is that when Dr. Brene Brown speaks of shame and blame in our organizations and families, it hit me pretty hard. People are not treated equally and oftentimes disrespected. When I cognitively process all this, it’s no wonder I’ve disengaged. It’s almost like I’m on energy-saving mode. Or soul-preservation mode more aptly. The problem with this whole set up is that once you disengage in one part of your life, it tends to overflow into other areas. Nevermind I’m not being a good leader with all this disengagement going on, I’m probably not being a good roommate, girlfriend, or daughter. I’ve also began to wonder if I haven’t taken this into my relationship with Chloe. Am I pulling back and avoiding spending some time at home that I should/could because she’s in bad health and I can’t face it? I dunno, but it’s something to consider.

I haven’t finished the chapter on disengagement. I had to pause and let it all sink in. But something tells me when you have to pull in your authentic self from one area of life, it’s going to be damn hard—if not impossible—to bring the authenticity back to other areas. Without any data from a source, I venture to say in my own life that when I’m disengaged it kills and numb parts of me that can’t just come back to life at 5pm. Despite the best intentions of friends to convince me otherwise, I’m here to say that you can’t become someone brand new at 5:01pm. You’re either in the game or not. Of course, boundaries and other things come up and should be explored (and put into practice!) to make sure you’re healthy enough to contribute meaningfully. It’s my experience that when you start a soul preservation experiment and disengagement at work, it will trickle down everywhere. In the end, I’m left not feeling like I can do enough anywhere.

The sad truth is that disengagement only hurts me, not helps. I feel guilty about the work that I cannot control or finish. I feel guilty I’m not doing more to improve things. I fear that I come off uncaring or cold and not seeing people as human beings with human needs but instead as things that I only deal with because I have to. Maya Angelou once said something about acknowledging people and showing them how your eyes light up when they come into a room. I can think of three times I do this on a steady basis: Chris, Audrey & Chloe. Two of those are pets and I’m only counting them to feel better about my ability to show love. From the moment we met, Christopher has a way of lighting me up inside that I hope is evident in my eyes. Just today I had the thought that I don’t think a million years could go by and it be enough to ever let me show how much I love him. [Yes, the L word. Don’t hate, congratulate.] I ask only one thing of myself: should the ordinary habits of living invade us, may I always remember to light up when he walks into the room. If I cannot tell him or show him in any way, I want him to know he matters to me. Right now, it’s pretty much effortless.

I am determined to re-engage myself. It was the words of my boyfriend that helped me the most. He said, “Remember the serenity prayer.” And I think about this almost daily since he reminded me. I cannot change the senior leaders in this organization, but I can change me. I can change my leadership and hopefully prevent those I supervise from the same fate. I can show them how much they matter, how much they are appreciated, and cultivate an authentic relationship with them. It’s really all I can do. I also read in Dr. Brown’s book that if you aren’t uncomfortable as a leader then you’re not growing or learning and not doing a good job. It’s entirely possible these emotions and lessons have been brought to me to prepare me for something new—some bigger and brighter opportunities I hope lie ahead.