Could haver been, Should have been, Never to be

Could have been, Should have been, Never to be

1.   Could have been

"Happiness is job satisfaction," a mantra repeated yet again as I munch on the Saturday morning muesli topped with blueberries, chopped lady finger banana and topped off with full cream milk. At the same time it is contemplated that truly the Universe has some still unknown gripe with me, a mere Landscape Architect who loves working for the community in which he is based, who has passion about all things green, to enable the happiness of others in enjoying the outdoor fruits of my design based labours.

The loaded spoon poised at the lips to dip its contents in, but the mind has headed to the stars and beyond finding the rim of a black hole of despair from which there is no coming back. This black gravity well sucks hard. Distracted, the spoon moves into the lip instead of the mouth with its contents spilt over an area much bigger than the volume within the spoon.

It never ceases to amaze how wide reaching the splash effect is. Phone screen milked and mueslied up, blueberried milk stain via the shirtfront to the lap of the pants below, down the chair leg, floor over a metre wide and the one banana chunk somehow embedded in two day chin stubble.

All this because of pent up frustration at being overlooked yet again for career promotion within this local Council and lack of response for applications to organisations outside.

Resigned to the immediate need to clean up, spoon is placed back in the bowl, paper towel grabbed only to realise it almost gone. A weary sigh at the guilt of my self-inflicted unhappiness escapes as I trudge upstairs to the paper towel repository, grab a new roll and commence the sixteen steps trudge back down.

Last week’s failed Director interview roles through this too active mind, wondering what I didn’t say or state correctly enough that ended with the thanks but no thanks email from the head of HR yesterday muttering something about the need for fresh eyes and new blood. I was beaten by a body from corporate world.

Seven years and I know how this place ticks upwards, sidewards and downwards. Always the same message that I am very good at whatever comes across the desk including urgent reports, budget submissions, trouble shooting, prompt dealing with the grind of HR issues that come with the turf of managing one hundred plus employees and saving the previous Directors arse on more than one occasion.

It appears all for nought. I can’t wait for the instruction to assist newbie however I can. As per normal I will hide my grimace behind the smile façade and brush off my best behaviour persona and help.

Frown deepens as I turn at the bottom step to head back to muesli disaster zone and pivot too quick loosing grip on the handrail and in my haste to re-grip, miss the step completely to go down hard on the right side, body folded across the right ankle. Instant ankle pain and lay there as if smothered by Mt Etna ash frozen not daring to test the now throbbing ankle.

Adrenaline clears the failure fog, focussed on getting up and getting to the freezer ice pack which seems so far away. A hobble hop that reminds of some of my freestyling club days suffices to get me there avoiding the clean-up pool on the floor which cats Mango and Batman have helpfully started licking up. 

I must clean and manage to complete as best I can with hiphop to fridge completed, freezer opened, icepack out, hiphop to lounge half falling but finally down and icepack applied to the swelling ankle.

“Why?” is screamed. Am surprised as it was supposed to be a thought and not vocalised, but it was. The screaming stopped after about twenty why’s and silence ensued with focus on the now dulling ankle pain.

My own fault to lose focus and have the teeth grinding over this latest career development failure. It could have been me but it wasn’t and there is nothing I can do about that. Face it, I am just not good enough even though many say I am.

Black hole of despair doubly descends again realising that I need to contact my cricket captain to advise I won’t be available for this afternoon’s game.

2.   Should have been

Two months on from that Saturday morning of disaster and two weeks on from the new Director commencing. Yet another meet the troops smiley session and the repeated bland Corporate face speech with absolutely nothing of substance. Impenetrable this director is proving to be, both in communication and knowledge.

Turns out that It has a Doctorate in Philosophy which is causing some consternation to all that serve as we are involved in developing and maintaining public infrastructure. It? Am not being disrespectful, but at times it seems that I am talking to an amorphous blob that is never to be realised into solidity of form that provides reassurance of commitment.

Its door is closed apart from the weekly formal meetings. One exceptional trait is Its ability to delegate, delegate and then delegate some more, to disappear especially at those critical moments of decision making. Sometimes It can be tracked to strategic planning meetings but only if the meeting has not already been delegated.

In many ways I am doing the job that I failed to gain with job satisfaction being the lowest of my extended career. It really should have been me in the Director’s chair instead of spending working hours being a professional gopher to It.

Questions of what really matters creep into being and stay there to be become a daily constant that seeps into dreamscapes at night.  

Pleasure of playing in the home garden including the expanding vegetable patch holds my attention more than the job. The passion of sporting life in cricket and surfing the ocean rhythms keeps love of life dominant, but this job and my beloved profession does not.

Decision is made to pursue happiness and that can only be done if I resign, and I do. It will be ok as the severance package is tidy and coupled with a solid bank balance will see me in good stead for quite a few years.

Maybe some of those bucket list surf destinations can now be realised like winter chasing novelty swells around the Mediterranean finished off with Morocco via stepping through the history of Turkey.

Happiness reigns in the most wonderful sleep filled nights and days of play, in the garden, visiting friends, helping the now adult kids landscape their places.

There have been a few formal job applications go out testing the professional waters with one of note being Senior Public Infrastructure Project manager at the Nusantara project, Indonesia’s new Capital City in East Kalimantan. What an opportunity if I get the nod for that. Career defining it would be and no doubt some serious hours in creating this wonder out of raw bones.

An automated email receipt response comes back, but the weeks tick by and nothing more. I email and receive standard response of under consideration and telephone to have automated voice reply and hold at the other end. One hour on hold is more than enough and the job application eventually drifts into the back box brain archive.

3.   Never to be

A job on the community notice board at the supermarket catches my attention regarding gardening help to people undergoing cancer treatment. It appears my love of gardening is the hook and I am hired. About twenty hours a week with the boss giving me what she refers to as the trickiest customers as they all love their garden.

These people with the most difficult of health issues are serious lovers of plants and we get along well. Most times it is more about having someone to have a cup of tea and chat to. They tell me stories of the previous horror gardener who didn’t know one end of a secateur to another. We swap stories of the garden and family while I pull weeds and trim and re-pot plants.

This is life being appreciated to maintain some semblance of plant order and vitality in their chaos of diminishing existence. These clients enhance and embrace the best aspects of humanity while going through the most trying times.  

Months go by and soon a full year with some clients not making it through their tough times, but the cancer pot is unfortunately deep and provided more of the simple pleasures of mutual plant love and a good conversation with new and still some old clients.

Surprisingly quick this last year with professional world a fragmented ghost of times past. During this time planning for the Bucket list Mediterranean trip and beyond has proceeded. Four months in all to enable a lazy stroll or two or three and I advise the Agency that I will not be available for work.

While they are unhappy to see me go, the wonderful words of “if you do come back, please visit and we can arrange some work,” resonates with my uplifted soul. Absolutely lovely and caring people they are.

Packing is almost done and leave tomorrow with first stop Portugal, buy a van and the required camping gear, load up the board, and go! Tick off Nazarre as first destination and follow the coast south and then east into the Mediterranean, its islands and eventually Morocco.

Trip thoughts are happily focussed on the trip as an email ping alerts me via the phone. Checking the phone certainly gains the attention.  A global HR Professional head-hunting company noting my previous application for the Nusantara Project and whether there was still interest in pursuing the position?

Astonishing that after all this time of forgetting about this career defining job that contact is made. The phone rings, noting that it is an Indonesian number, which surely can’t be a coincidence, and a long-ago familiar voice is on the other end – “Hi mate, Andre here, long time no talk, what is it ten years?”

Names are tumbling out of the mind archives and then Andre is fixed, my early boss in private enterprise. “Hi Andre, certainly is a long time ….” He cuts me off only to say that he wants me and my infrastructure project sensibilities at Nusantara. “The job is yours mate and start packing asap as we need you here yesterday.” He had always been blunt and no nonsense, the sort of boss I like. A mainly one sided conversation continues about the position, contract length, money and perks.

The lure was inescapable but what had the last year taught me? What was going to happen to the bucket list trip? What was going to happen to the peace of mind and happiness flowing from the simple things in life? What is worth more? The promise of big bucks which come with big hours, much stress and serious deadlines or this current vitality in the pursuit of happiness first and foremost?

The answer didn’t take long, “Andre, great to talk mate, but am retired from the big stuff now and enjoying the simpler things in life. I hope you can appreciate this and big thanks for thinking of me, it means a lot.” Andre let’s out a small sigh, “Hmm ok mate, I feel what you are saying, and in many ways am envious that you have pulled yourself away from the grind. We must catch up one day eh?” Yes, we certainly will.

 I am boss of my own destiny and that is the way it could and even should have always been instead of being stuck in the black hole of never to be.

“Now, where is that sunscreen?”

Chris Round