If I Just Worked Harder.......

The commentary behind the scenes of this blog is fascinating. Everyone has their own theory on motivation to have (or not). I sit with my feelings and memories. I go back again and again to my first job, remembering how hard I worked, how little I made, and that I despaired of ever doing any better in life.

 I remember sitting at my kitchen table, which my mom bought me, in my first apartment figuring out how much more I would have to earn in order to be able to start a ‘vacation fund’, a ‘clothing fund’, and a ‘Christmas fund’. Those were the wants that seemed most important to me at the time. As I did the math, I clearly recall the sinking and hopeless feeling in my stomach. With yearly raises of 25 cents an hour (which was what the policy seemed to be), it would take forever. I don’t know if my employers were wealthy – I thought they were. I worked very hard to be indispensable – but my efforts did not translate into dollars. My solution was always to work harder. I’d been raised with a serious work ethic but I felt like I was spinning my wheels. Someone else held the keys to my prosperity. I was not in control.

 My first years in NYC were very tough. I often didn’t have enough money for the bills, for food, and I certainly didn’t have anything left over for fun. Most of the time, I walked around without any money at all, a condition that drove my mother nuts. Either loyal or scared of change (jury still out), I stayed in jobs until a merger or a buy-out ended them, and in subsequent positions, I always started out earning less than I’d been making. So I was always struggling to regain lost ground.

Inside I was angry. I couldn’t work harder – or more. There weren’t enough hours in the day or enough days in the week. It didn’t seem fair to me. Why did I not deserve to have a good life?

Then I went to work for a generous man whose work ethic rivaled my own. I remember sitting with him in the car on the way to a ‘seal-the-deal’ presentation we were to make to a behemoth health insurance company. He cleared his throat and told me there would be a substantial bonus for me as a result of my hard work. I was stunned. I fought the urge to look around to see to whom he was speaking because surely it wasn’t me.

His generosity along with other factors in my life changed my situation and outlook. There was a connection, after all, between my actions and the end result. Now I was going on a shopping spree.