Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts

Friday, 19 June 2015

Poorly Learnt Lessons



I try, when I remember to, to bear in mind the saying, “Everyone provides an example; some to follow and some to avoid”.  There are some people to emulate, and some people to consciously attempt not to, or more accurately, certain things about people to emulate, and certain things, often about the same people, to avoid.  I also try to remember the prayer, “Lord, may I see myself as others see me, and see others as You see them.”

It is far too easy to become judgmental and arrogant about other people, and I am well aware that this is a serious fault within myself, and despite my (often far from-) best efforts I do judge and look down upon other people.  However, I also try and draw lessons from them as well.  Unfortunately, it seems that I require the same lessons repeating on occasion.

Those of you with the signal good taste and excellent good fortune to have read my book, Three Men on a Pilgrimage (Link to the right, tens of copies sold nationwide, available online and from all good bookshops, the book already being described as ‘By Thomas Jones’) will be familiar with the chapter in which the eponymous characters encounter the shop assistant who’s constantly harassed by an old man to further reduce the price of the items he’s reducing at the end of the day, and the epiphany that the shop assistant had that the way the old man acted was exactly how he acted towards God.  I can reveal that this is based on a true story.  I was that shop assistant, during my incarceration in a supermarket, and the old man is based on a real person (or rather persons).  Having had the realisation, I attempted to act more kindly towards them.

Several years have passed, and I finished my sentence in retail and was released into a office role at an international company.  I work in the country headquarters, but we have numerous salesmen based around the country who travel about visiting customers.  One of my jobs is to send out brochures, catalogues and demonstration equipment, and as a result I am frequently contacted by the salesmen to send literature to customers, or send demonstration equipment to themselves.  Others phone because they’re on the road, and want me to check our database for a phone number or address for a customer.  They’ll frequently tell me that I’m a ‘star’ or ‘my best mate’.  On those rare occasions when they visit the head office, they will often pass through the part of the office I work in and won’t give me a glance, let alone the time of day.  Now don’t get me wrong, they’re all decent, pleasant people, and they're extremely busy, so they’re hardly to be blamed if it’s a bit ‘out of sight, out of mind’ for them.

Nonetheless, this used to annoy me, and I’ve complained to the people unfortunate enough to sit near me about the fact that I don’t seem to be their ‘best mate’ when they don’t want something.  Then, like a hammer to the brain, I realised that I’d just made exactly the same mistake as before.

“Hi God, my best mate!  Could you just...”

“Hi God, how are you?  Just a quick job for you…”

“Hi God, if it’s alright, I just need…  Thanks very much, you’re a star!”

“What?  Oh, God, it’s you.  No, I don’t need anything right now.  Why are you bothering me?”

I like to think that I’m reasonably intelligent, but that clearly doesn’t equate to being able to learn things easily.  I have resolved (if I remember to!) not to mind that they only tend to speak to me when they need something, and not to complain about it, or make sarcastic comments, either to them or my colleagues.  We’ll see how long I can keep that up for…

Everyone provides an example, some to follow, some to avoid.  Very often, the person whose example needs avoiding most is me.  I just need to be willing to learn my own lessons, as well as those of other people.

Tuesday, 22 July 2014

Consideration and the Art of Tea-Making



Tea.  Good stuff, tea.  Drink of gods, champions and kings, stuff of life, sweetest of the sweet nectars, fuel of genius, cheap for the poor, sophisticated for the rich, warming when you’re cold, cooling when you’re hot, calming when one is fraught, invigorating when one is sluggish, etc etc, and so on and so forth.  Like I said, good stuff.

And everyone likes it their own way, be that strong, weak, milky, not milky, whatever.  And of course, since that is the way you like it, it stands to reason that it is the best way to have it, and other people only have it their own way because they’ve not tried it in yours.  In the excellently titled ‘A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down’ (a book which, it must be said, spends far too many pages on biscuits, and not nearly enough on tea and sitting down), it is pointed out that this tea arrogance results in people making tea for others in their own way.  There may be token queries as to how much milk, and no-one from any kind of civilised society would ever add sugar to another’s tea without asking first, but basically tea is made in the way the maker best sees fit.

At work, I am part of only a small team, consisting of myself and two others, and when we make tea, we make it for the others as well.  I should add that normally I am a supreme tea snob, and at home I make it using loose leaves in a proper tea pot, and drink it out of a cup and saucer.  However, this would be impractical, not to mention somewhat pretentious-seeming, in an office setting and so I lower my standards and drink tea made with a tea-bag.  My main consolation is that I get to use my Spiderman mug; the one with a spider symbol on the side that changes colour when hot liquid is poured into it.  It’s the little pleasures that make the day bearable.

All that being as it is, one of my colleagues, when they make tea for the rest of us, makes it quite milky.  The other, when they make it, makes it very strong.  I tended to make it somewhere in the middle, although possibly slightly stronger than not.  However, having read the book named above, and knowing of the phenomenon of ‘tea arrogance’, I have attempted to extrapolate how they like their tea and prepare it accordingly.  For the one who makes it milky, I make it milky.  For the one who makes it strong, I make it strong.  For myself, I make it the way I like it.  In this manner, I hope to give them tea that they will enjoy as much as I enjoy mine.

Neither of them has commented on this, I’m not even sure they’ve noticed.  Possibly they both assume that they have won me over to their way of doing things, and that now I enjoy milky or strong tea far more than my previous misguided delight in medium-strongish tea.  Certainly neither of them has reciprocated and started producing tea in a manner other than that which (I assume) they enjoy, so it seems that I may rather have shot myself in the foot with my own consideration.  Or maybe I’m just over thinking the whole thing…

Still, do as you would be done by, bless those who curse you, and make nice tea for those poor benighted souls who haven’t yet realised that the way you like it is just outright better.