April 29, 2020

Management Style
 
I manage. Sometimes decently, sometimes barely.
Sometimes not at all. By some measures, I'm goin'
gangbusters all the time. Some would say I'm a
bust. Washed up. Busted. You managed to put up
a good front, kid. Sometimes it's all I can do to
manage the voices, cross-wise, at odds. It's odd.

I play referee to opposing teams, Switzerland to
openly declared adversaries, mediator between
rival camps in a hot war to claim territory in the
form of time and characterizations. I manage
to contain these multitudes – sometimes decently,
sometimes barely. Sometimes not at all. It's odd.

Are the odds even? Are they long? Are they safe?
Are there even odds, really? If I were a betting
woman, would I put money on me? Which me?
Odds are I've already placed my bets on myself,
my personal middle manager who somehow
manages to hold it together, chiefly by holding

hands with my wingman, seeking support from
the mothership, and taking counsel from those
who have walked ahead on the path of wisdom
and circled back bearing stronger light for the
journey to come. This is how I beat the odds.
Nothing odd about it. This is how I manage.