300 – Page 2 – Picking Up Roots

Code

They offered him more money than he’d ever thought he’d earn in a year to stay. He was flattered and told them so. It was too late.

He hadn’t given them everything, but over the last 20 years he’d given them more than the majority of his peers. He would have given more, but no one had listened. Nobody was asking for ideas, there was no place to submit them, so he sat on his. He figured they were his biggest contribution to the company, but they didn’t come to light until it was too late.

After he’d submitted his resignation to his boss, he wrote a letter to the President and CEO. He’d explained his thoughts on the company’s future and thanked them for the opportunity. He was himself: polite, professional, non-descript. Neither responded.

On his second to last day, the President called and asked him if he’d be willing to expand upon his ideas. They had a pleasant chat that lasted two hours. He didn’t think anything more of it. He’d enjoyed the chance to share his ideas, but that was that.

The next morning the Vice President of HR called with an offer that would quintuple his pay and grant him a powerful new title. He was grateful, but declined. He’d made a commitment and he didn’t turn his back on those.

The President and CEO both called him in the afternoon begging him to stay. He was polite, but steadfast in his refusal. He had a code.

He spent a pleasant weekend with his family. The children laughed in the yard. The fading sunlight caught his wife’s hair and he fell in love with her all over again. There was no talk of work.

On Monday, he went to work at his old company’s largest competitor.

A Summation

I hate the failure of this space. The lack of impact of this work. I know hate is a useless emotion. It feeds anger and can become all-consuming. It’s all driven by fear. I’m not afraid. What can happen?

Everything is temporary. Love. Pain. This life. In scope, everything is a moment. Some are more consistent than others. All leave their mark. All are valuable. All have meaning. It’s the emotion we give to them that gives them power over us.

This hasn’t launched. We did the work. We put in the time. It hasn’t stuck. It didn’t catch. How could it? It’s a subtle art in a world of blunt instruments, looking to bludgeon the attention spans of the masses. How could the expectation ever have been to be seen?

Hope. It’s necessary. Sometimes it’s evil. We cling to it. It keeps us moving forward. We need it. In some instances there is none, no matter how romantic the vision, there is no way forward.

Adapt or die.

Our expectation is this. It aligns with our vision, which came from our core. It’s how we want this to be. We can’t change it now. We won’t. Why align ourselves with what everyone else is doing. It hollows out the meaning of our actions. Since when has meaning paid the mortgage?

So we are failing.

Maybe we will rise from this failure stronger for having had the experience. It’s too soon to say. This took everything we had to start. I don’t know if we’ll have the energy to process where we went wrong, correct, and throw ourselves into it again.

It is our everything. It has to mean something. It has to work. It’s what brings us joy. Maybe we can start again.

We have to try.

Don’t we?

Breakers

He wanted to walk closer to the water where the sand was firm and cooler. He wanted to feel the bite of the early-spring Atlantic as the occasional wave washed over his naked feet.

She preferred the looser sands further up from the waterline. She was cold. The wind tore through the thin jacket she wore. Looking at the icy blue of the ocean made her shiver.

He looked up at her as the wind caught her hair, pushing it in disheveled waves across her face. She was beautiful. Still. Always. Forever. Time would never steal that from his eyes.

The sun glistened across the water and she had to squint to make out his shape. She saw more the motion – his long strides – than anything else. She thought he was crazy to be out there in shorts, feet getting washed over by the foamy water. She shivered again.

He felt the peace washing over him. The cold water sharpened his senses, but the simple act of being by the water washed away all the cares weighing him down.

She didn’t hate it here. She loved the ocean. She just didn’t like the cold. It was too early to be here. She hadn’t said as much, she knew he needed this. Still…she couldn’t help feeling.

He felt light. He watched the gulls soar upon the wind and envied their freedom. He thought about what waited at home.

She looked down at him. Saw he was up to his knees now, his legs never leaving the water. He was an idiot. It was too cold. She loved him anyway. That would never change.

He didn’t feel the water. He felt nothing. He drifted further toward the sun.

She looked for him again. He was gone. Her scream drowned in the wind.