I like to have a little bit of cheap literature that in the Palace of Igartza of Beasain I decided what it would be ex officio. I welcome that meeting that they organized to present the book “The Owner of Our Birth”: Estitxu Fernández and Ixabel Aleman talking with power about the table; before them the members of a small association of fathers and mothers, and almost in the last row, in a corner, we received rather strange looks for every two children, which helped me not to leave alone. Before the talk, the leader of the association approached us, with a triptych: “We don’t know you and, well, here is the information of our association.” We were completely out of place. What did you imagine! My friend still reminds me of the anguish that happened. I, however, was so amazed that nothing but joy had fallen into the body.
I love my profession. It builds me. I am a midwife for twenty-four hours in the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. Anywhere and with anyone, it's something that inevitably crosses me. Identity. Maybe it's just an initial euphoria, I don't know. Perhaps twenty years from now or, with the burnout completely, I will leave the profession and dedicate myself to selling buttons in some haberdashery. But today, I'm proud that I have the most beautiful officer in the world, and I'm coming back with a great calling or a similar pirope.
But don't misunderstand me. I've taken the unconscious form of a Bible salesman, but I don't imagine I'm coming to promote work. Because I think the calling is a double-edged sword. It can be pirope and insult. Virtue and absence. Reward and punishment. For the company passion is good lottery, yes: “We will not give you that training you have asked us. But, listen, don’t forget why you’re here, don’t forget that you want your profession, use your free hours, your money, your holiday days and keep learning full.” In fact, lately I'm sick of romantic speeches like self-motivation and overcoming one's own borders. In the name of the vocation, it seems legitimate to require workers to exploit the resources they have and develop their value.
In the name of the vocation, it seems legitimate to demand the responsibility of the worker to exploit the resources he has and develop his value.
The work hobby discourse also has an anesthetic effect, since impulsive revolts against precarious working conditions are adorned with a blow, how can I complain about what makes me happy? That's the key to loyalty workers honestly: there's no ramps on their favorite path. There is no better luxury than to dedicate ourselves to what we want. No instability, no uncertainty, no competition. And if someone is really stressed out in carelessness, be quiet, because they may not respond to their demands, but there is room in the budget for the mindfulness course.
By the way, in the words of master Jon Kabat-Zinn, mindfulness is without judgment, intentionally putting all attention to the moment. Of course, thinking well is a reasonable mindfulness strategy for companies. If not, we will have to think and resurrect in the long term, and as the proverb says: rather than washing hands, we better not stain.
Neither is everything pink in the best official in the world, either from a professional or a work perspective. That is why, if I ever found a child hallucinating in the Palace of Igartza, knowing that he will not fit him in the body, I would say to the ear, in case: magician with the vocation.