It came again. The premonition that it won’t work and that she has to find out another job looms large in my daily life. She thought this time would be different. She believed this time was a tide in her affairs. But then the curse returned, and demons and ghosts appeared with Pan’s fanfare.
Daniel Kahneman, in Thinking Slow and Fast, voiced that the acquisition of skills took three elements: (1) a regular environment, (2) adequate time to practice, and (3) rapid constructive feedback. While the first element fits the requisite, the other ones do not relate to her situation now. The young associate whom she closely work with bypasses the other two elements only to show his disapproving acceptance of no more mistakes and rash disappointment in her performance of work. It has been over a month now since she started working, but my hopeful expectation to succeed in right her ship seems to be at stake because, once again, she is unlucky with partnerships with other people, especially at work. The associate is short of temper and not ashamed of displaying an ingratiating attitude toward the department manager. He knows that she is inexperienced in drafting legal letters and agreements, but the past mistakes conditioned him to regard me as a good-for nothing woman who fumbles and appears to be servile. Now she has lost her faith in the people she is working with. She should find and secure a better job before the probation period ends.
She deserves to work in a suitable environment where she is treated well, taught with patience and understanding, and appreciated for who she is.
One leap into the starry air Beneath the visiting moon When ghosts begin to roam This world of sense everywhere, She lands with paws and meows With a mask from a ghost paddler A cat wandering in night’s delight.
I never told my wishes But let my concealment, like a furnace of fury, feed on my eyes riveted by ire and impudence; I eternally pined in thought, And with a blue and gray melancholy I sat like Longing on a pew, smiling at Grief and teardrops welled in the windows of my soul. No other Gods listened to my pleas; No other Sun lit up my heaven, No other star ever shone for me. And even yet, I dared not let my useless passion and vain hope languish in rapturous, radiant pain; Drinking deep of that profound anguish, How could I find my place again?
For all this time beneath this visiting moon, Where treasure is, my heart has not been at it with the lights of the lamp glowing in the gloom. But now I see the voracious time devour the kingdom of the shore, And the solid earth rule over the liquid main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I see such vicissitudes of state, Or fate itself repeated over and over; Splashes of battle have taught me to ruminate That nothing stays the same to remain forever And I can’t depend on anything that changes. This thought is a truth that hope chooses And in the dying moments of today, fears I lose.
Today, whatever the Fates weave Shall still be worn with beauty by me; Today then don’t let you be told, How many chapters of life are turned; That you are old, and so I am indeed; Nor think dreams have waned with tears, And talk of the youth wasted with sighs. Tomorrow will always be tomorrow And nothing will change, even sorrow. But a thought from reason brings the truth An everlasting and brilliant truth, Which can, in spite of all smirks, Open your eyes and my ears To the evening star twinkling bright With sweet soft winds fluting in the twilight, Made of fire, spirit, and dew.