When Manager Parts Storm the Castle

It’s official – my parts are messing with me.  Lately I’ve been hearing an endless litany of “You can’t do this,” and “You won’t be good at your next job,” and “There’s no hope of finding something you really love.”  Over and over, in an endless stream whenever I think about the job search.  It hasn’t quite felt like the inner critic, but there have definitely been some serious fearful voices coming up.  And yesterday, I very clearly recognized them as manager parts.  And as much as some of them do carry valid fears, they are also playing a game with me.  Perhaps, deep down, they want to help, but they don’t mind instigating a little sabotage in order to get their way.

See, the thing is, right now the project of figuring out my next job isn’t really fraught with problems.  There are some basic questions, some angles that need exploring, but the other day I realized that I’m in a phase that should be a fun one.  I love self discovery and digging deep and considering what I really want.  Instead, the way forward has appeared a treacherous journey through volcanic eruptions and pools of lava hot enough to burn by proximity.

My manager parts are trying desperately to convince me that there is a problem to solve because that’s where they thrive.  And it may also be where they find their value.  Their purpose for being.

And so this beautiful, peaceful, regenerative time off that I’ve been taking has become more and more charged with tension and frustration over issues that are – effectively – imaginary.  The only thing to do is to call them out on it.

Hello, Managers!  Oh, what a clever little game.  And several of you were in on it together, I can see that now.  It was well plotted: every time I started to make progress with one part, one set of doubts, another one of you would pop up to distract me.

No more, kiddos.  The jig is up.

You do understand, I hope, that whether through a volcanic minefield or a flowery meadow with the possibility of an occasional thorn, we HAVE to start moving forward.  And, interestingly, the path is entirely up to us.

Now, I’d really like to take the fun, exciting road of discovery and potential.  And I’m going to do my best not to be distracted by your shenanigans any longer.

We don’t need to create more problems, I promise you.  Some problems will naturally crop up in the course of life, and when they do, I know I have an excellent team of managers on deck, ready to dive in and tackle them.  I still rely on you guys to do your jobs when it’s time.

But until then, PLEASE  r e l a x.  Drink a margarita.  Hang out poolside.  It’s summer, after all.  You don’t have to be working all the time to be valuable to me.  Take a break.  I won’t forget about you if you’re not constantly yammering at me, I promise.  Many of you have been around since childhood, some from adolescence and probably a few from the college and post-college years of my twenties.  Let me be absolutely clear: no one is getting kicked out of the car.  And we are not turning the car around because that would do more damage to me than to any of you.  But if y’all don’t get your shit together real quick, Mom is going to get frustrated.

Let me underline that by saying I love all of you – each and every one of you.  Unconditionally.  Which means that you don’t have to constantly be trying to do your jobs in order for me to value you.  I already do.

Please don’t keep attacking me in a misguided attempt to show me how good you are at problem solving.

There is no problem.  So take a chill pill.

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