I’ve previously written about my struggles with “fitting in.” This has been another one of those weeks, and especially one of those days, when I’ve re-engaged with that issue. I’m in a pretty much “glass-half-empty” kind of space tonight as I contemplate a few indicators of a life that’s not working all that well at the moment. So, here they are: how you might tell your life could be in better shape…

• Losing a job that you’d had for nearly a decade. Being ignored, unappreciated and unceremoniously dismissed in the process.

• Spending the best hours of every day on the downhill side of life working and looking for work. (Well, and writing the occasional blog entry.)

• Worrying about health. Worrying about safety, security, and stability. Worrying about worrying to death.

• Finding work that is merely temporary. Being treated like a temp.

• Having (or at least taking) no time to stop and smell the roses. Having no time to produce art. Having no time to read a novel.

• Barely enough energy to get out of bed, lots of times, just imagining the difficulty level of the day ahead.

• Constant, chronic myofascial pain, accompanied frequently by headaches and symptoms of irritable bowel syndrome. Other strange aches, pains & afflictions and occasional infections.

• Coming home after work and always finding that it’s another evening alone. And, consequently, anticipating that dying and death will also come very alone.

• Spending part of every evening taking a hot bath, trying to soak away some of the pain. Easing into the hot water, being overwhelmed with hopelessness. Feeling, fighting, the inclination to sob.

• Feeling the large part, of most every day, like a misfit.

It wasn’t that long ago I went to the movies almost every Saturday afternoon. In recent times, though, that behavior has all but disappeared as the product from Hollywood seems to be more and more drivel-of-the-mindless-type all the time. Until Friday (two days ago), the last movie I saw in a theatre was sometime early last summer before I moved south.

But when I was in Eugene on Friday, I decided it was time, again, to take in a first-run film…so I went to see Stranger Than Fiction on its opening day. This was a rather odd choice of a movie for me, as anything with Will Ferrell in it is bound to be rather juvenile, isn’t it? I mean, after all: Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby ? Give me a break!

Despite these thoughts, though, I had seen the movie trailer and it seemed oddly intriguing. Also, it had other interesting cast members such as Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson, actors that generally appeal to me. So, given that I was in the mall right across the street from the theatre, I said, what the heck…

This movie tells the story of Harold Crick (Ferrell), a single guy, who (rather like me, I’m afraid) “lived a life of solitude. He would walk home alone; he would eat alone. When others’ minds would fantasize about their upcoming day, Harold just counted brush strokes…” (well, no, I don’t count strokes as I brush my teeth, thank you very much).

The passage, in quotes above, is from the voice (Emma Thompson’s) that Harold begins to hear in his head one morning while he is brushing, a voice that narrates the events of his life as they happen, a voice that speaks, according to Harold, “about [him], accurately, and with a better vocabulary…”

The incessant voice is quite annoying, and it was heading in the direction of totally immobilizing him (as it was the only way to stop the running narration). That is, until one day, the voice observes, “little did he [Harold] know that events had been set in motion that would lead to his imminent death” … an observation that, naturally, tips Harold over the edge. He’s going to die? Imminently ??

Having already sought help from a psychiatrist (played by Linda Hunt) – who simply wants to medicate him – Harold then decides to seek assistance of another type, this time literary help in the form of literature professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman). The dominant questions become, after Jules finally decides to pursue the investigation:

• is Harold’s life a comedy or tragedy? and
• what are the possibilities, among living authors, for the identity of the narrator’s voice?

Naturally, as it turns out, Harold is the character in a novel being written by the Emma Thompson character, author Kay Eiffel. And it is Eiffel who must figure out a way to kill off Harold, as all the heroes in all her books always die in the end.

Along the way, however, in a totally romantic-comedy manner (and coincident with the decision that his life is a tragedy), Harold has an incredible thing happen to him. He meets bakery-shop owner Ana Pascal (deliciously portrayed by Maggie Gyllenhaal), and begins to think about her all the time. Although love has (apparently) never been a part of his life before, it becomes a dominant element now.

Despite all this, Eiffel continues to struggle mightily with just the right way to end Harold’s life. As die he, inevitably, must.

As Roger Ebert points out in his review of the film, the question of how (or even whether) to kill off Harold “is the engine for the moral tale.” Ebert continues…

How rare to find a pensive film about the responsibilities we have to art. If Eiffel’s novel would be a masterpiece with Harold’s death, does he have a right to live? On the other hand, does she have the right to kill him off for her work?

I suggest you go see Stranger Than Fiction and wrestle with the issues raised. I don’t think you’ll regret the time you spend engaged in your pondering mode.

We’re just two days shy of the third anniversary of Governor Kulongoski’s announcement (on November 13, 2003) that he was asking for the resignations of several members of the Oregon State Board of Higher Education (OSBHE). Also part of his action was to express a desire that former Governor Neil Goldschmidt be appointed to the OSBHE and installed as its president.

That Fall day in 2003 was one that not only changed the lives of the Board members involved, but mine as well; as a staff person in the Oregon University System Chancellor’s Office, the OSBHE was my direct employer. On that fateful Thursday, I was attending the annual conference of the Association for the Study of Higher Education in Portland, and I heard the news, first, as a “rumor.” Somebody mentioned to me that the Governor had “fired the Board of Higher Ed,” which, of course, was unbelievable; no chief executive in our state had ever done such a thing since the department of higher education had been established in the late 1920s. I knew all of the Board members quite well, and there had been absolutely no behavior on their part that could, or should, have led to such a wholesale action by the Governor. The Board members were, all, dedicated public servants, doing the best job they could for higher education in the State.

However, as the course of the day wore on, the information became increasingly more clear. I went to my room in the Hilton late that afternoon, watched the early edition of the evening news on KGW, and discovered the rumor was actually fact. There were a couple of main topics with my dinner companions that night: speculation about what this action would mean for Oregon higher education, and a rather wild story about a recent internet dating experience of mine. We entertained ourselves quite well over that meal, as I recall, with lively conversation on both topics.

Of course, the next few months brought about many changes for the higher education landscape here. New Board members were appointed, and the Governor got his wish by having Goldschmidt elected as the president. However, the Portland media broke the story, a mere few weeks later, that the former Governor had had a sexual relationship with a 14-year old girl during the time he had been mayor of Portland years ago. Amid huge headlines, he resigned in disgrace and Kulongoski himself assumed the role of Board president for a couple of months. The Oregon University System Chancellor resigned, after less than two years on the job, upon assessing the political environment and reading the handwriting on the wall regarding his future. The Board, at the direction of the Governor, started a process (billed as a study to examine the “structure and function” of the Chancellor’s Office) which ultimately resulted in the elimination of the Office of Academic Affairs (and the jobs of the Vice Chancellor and several staff, including me).

My life has really not been the same since that day in November 2003. I was thrown completely off-balance and have been struggling to regain it ever since. I have gone on countless interview trips, and had two “interim” positions at Oregon community colleges, of course, but have had neither predictability nor stability in my life. As the current calendar year begins to fade away, the new job search season begins again for me. I hope to secure a permanent position in higher education (somewhere!) by next June 30.

It’s been an incredibly intense week. The highlight of the last few days, of course, was the election. And, ohmygod, can you believe how well it all turned out!?!? Nationally, the Ds captured the House and Senate, and here in Oregon they did the same. Now, if this all leads to the direction and degree of change we’ve demanded, then the last few weeks and months of those awful, awful ads may have been worth it.

Additionally, Ballot Measures 41 and 48 were both soundly defeated here in Oregon. This is a very good thing. Perhaps I’ll be able to stay employed until the end of my contract (next June) after all!

And then, on an even more-personal election-day level ... I believe the results might have been a tad better. As you recall, I declared my candidacy for state representative and then immediately voted for myself. Three others also voted for me (that I know of). I had sincere hopes that this was going to turn into an eventual groundswell of support and that I’d be swept into office on the coattails of the D’s success, handily defeating the R incumbent. Sadly, that’s not the way it turned out. While there were 391 write-in votes in opposition to Representative Morgan, that still only accounted for 2.41% of the total. I guess you’d call that a landslide.

Yep, I was buried.

If you’ve ever discovered the need to show up at work everyday by first forcing yourself out of bed, and then dragging yourself into the office because you’re dreading the day there: perhaps you’re working in an “addictive organization” (a concept I briefly outlined in my recent Analysis Paralysis post).

How does anyone really cope with life in an addictive organization? How is it possible to survive, much less thrive? What is your fate if you find yourself in one? Can you promote health and recovery…and actually, eventually, find a place of well-being there?

During the time I was engaged in my doctoral research, and anticipating using the addictive organization model as a theoretical framework for my dissertation, I corresponded briefly with Anne Wilson Schaef, the model’s developer. I had been tremendously impressed with her “organization as addict” metaphor and asked about any thoughts she might have regarding “coping with” or “recovery in” such an organization. She said that her plans were to write a follow-up book to The Addictive Organization (1988) and outline her ideas there. As far as I’ve been able to determine, though, she never produced that book…I can only hope it’s not because she thinks that recovery is impossible!

Now, given that it took an entire 232 pages to outline the many dimensions of an addictive organization, I suppose it would be reasonable to assume that any discussion of recovery in one would take at least as much space. However, coping with an addictive organization has been much on my mind lately, and I thought I might get started (here) on developing some salient points regarding this topic.

Although there are several dimensions of an addictive organization, certainly near the top of the list of characteristics (and among the most applicable to individual addicts) are the descriptors of denial, dishonesty and control. So, in this brief essay, let’s begin with just these three.

Denial means that the organizational problems are not openly acknowledged, or at least not accepted as “real” by those most able to address the dysfunction: the leadership. For issues to be worked on, they need to be identified, they need to be named. Statements such as “this is just the way things are” or “this is as good as it gets” or “we may have a few small problems here, but certainly not big ones” – when everyone really knows differently – is a sure sign of organizational denial.

Dishonesty is another key characteristic of an addictive organization. Like individuals who are addicted to substances or processes, those caught up in such an unhealthy organization exhibit their dishonesty on three levels: by lying to themselves, to those around them, and to the world at large. Believing that one can effectively impression-manage (e.g., the media) and “put up a good front” to those outside the organization, for example, are a couple of obvious manifestations of organizational dishonesty.

[I was once told, in private, by a college president, “I tell lies to everyone every day. There’s no other way to do this job.” While a striking example of personal honesty, the underlying message is one that reflects normal life in an addictive system.]

Finally, there is the element of control. This more accurately might be labeled the illusion of control, though, as it is, of course, ultimately impossible to control anything. However, the addictive organization harbors the notion that it is possible to control. When likened to a dysfunctional family that revolves around an individual addicted member, Schaef (p. 66) describes this symptom as “[t]he family tries to control the addict; the addict’s behavior is controlling the family; the co-dependent spouse is trying to avoid being controlled; and everyone is going crazy.” Further, Schaef notes (p. 66), that “whenever a system is operating on the illusion of control, it is an addictive system by definition.”

I believe that it’s possible to begin the grasp the severity of life in an addictive organization by simply (and quite briefly, as I’ve done above) understanding just these three characteristics. The questions that naturally arise include: What is there to do? How do I cope? How do I survive? How can I continue to show up every day, when this is what I always find?

I suppose that any discussion of “recovery” in a system defined as “addictive” would naturally include, at some point, a 12-step model; let me leave that discussion for another day, though. I would like to begin with countering the three points above by suggesting strategies that lie on the opposite ends of our behavioral continuum.

If the characteristics of denial and dishonesty are taken together (considering that denial is essentially a lie to one’s self), then a position contrary to that is honesty. Similarly, when the element of control is considered, an alternative could be termed surrender. So, I pose the question, what if I approached life in an addictive system with a personal stance of honesty and surrender?

When I consider this question, I am reminded of the Four-Fold Way orientation developed by anthropologist Angeles Arrien. Quoting directly and liberally from the description of this model on her website, I believe it is evident how such a philosophical and behavioral stance might successfully contend with the illness of an addictive system. The four elements are:

• Be Present. The way of the Leader is to show up. Being present allows us to access the human resources of power, presence, and communication. We express this through appropriate action, good timing, and clear communication.

• Pay Attention. The way of the Healer is to pay attention to what has heart and meaning. Paying attention opens us to the human resources of love, gratitude, acknowledgment, and validation. We express this through our attitudes and actions that maintain personal health and support the welfare of our environment.

• Tell The Truth. (Honesty) The way of the Creative Problem Solver is to tell the truth without blame or judgment. Truthfulness, authenticity, and integrity are keys to developing our vision and intuition. We express this through personal creativity, goals, plans, and our ability to bring our life dreams and visions into the world.

• Be Open To Outcome. (Surrender) The way of the Teacher (or Counselor) is to be unattached to outcome. Openness and non-attachment help us recover the human resources of wisdom and objectivity. We express this through our constructive communication and informational skills.

It is my thought, and suggestion here, that to adopt the healthy elements of Arrien’s Four-Fold Way, could be critical to both personal survival and organizational change in an addictive system.

Are you with me?