The title is something that came in a conversation at Market yesterday. A customer came in carrying two very large jawbones in a paper bag and bought one of my nicest bags to carry them in. He was just a delightful person and when we came up with that phrase collaboratively he said welcome to his world, that it would make a good band name. It is of course poetry, with the kind of deep multi-level meaning that I love and crave, and really made my day. Our conversation was too brief, but the phrase will live on. Not really going to work for a hat, but kind of describes my present condition, as I am turning 75 tomorrow.
My bones are actually only Bad in the good sense, as I am strong and only falling apart in a not too noticeable way, rather well-preserved for the present. I even feel happy most of the time, if I get enough time in the garden or reading and am not consumed by work and worry. Ending my volunteer positions with both OCF and Saturday Market has been instrumental in reducing my stress and it is still being revealed to me how internally devastating it has been to end my reliable and extremely giving support to especially the Saturday Market. Devastating to my idealism and what I thought I had founded my life upon, but rewarding in taking back my time and allowing me to focus it on my own life, which needs work that only I can do.
I forwarded my job description and thoughts to the person who recently took on the officer position of Secretary and was immediately struck by just how much oversight I had taken on of the organization, and how many gaps it left when I pulled out my support. Most of what I was doing will not be picked up by other volunteers, to the detriment of the what should still be a nonprofit. There was a recent discussion of whether or not we were really a mutual benefit corporation as we have been registering for as many years back as we have existed, I believe. It would be a good research project for someone to look back in the archives and figure out when things changed and how, but as it represents many hours of volunteering for me, I have not embraced it quite yet. Apparently lawyers will be consulted and paid for what I would have gladly done as a volunteer in the past.
Probably it has to be this way now, that volunteers no longer dedicate their lives to building organizations and shepherding them along for decades. People get paid very large amounts of wages to do the work and they should be doing it, as it is critical to the life of the org and the mutual benefit no longer materializes for volunteers. If the staff doesn't do it, it probably won't get done, which gives enormous power to corrupt staff and for which we will suffer the loss of so much.
Now that I am a member of the out-group for criticizing the unprofessional and destructive management we are paying for, my whole daily life at market has changed radically. The in-group people do not speak to me or even greet me, not that I want their attention. They look like a cult from the outside and I suppose I did too when I was an officer only a half year ago. Even though I have been a member for 50 years, my birthday was not listed in the newsletter (I didn't want to see it there anyway, but really, and Teresa's wasn't either.) I don't expect to have a part in Founders Day later this month which I used to pretty much orchestrate myself by hauling archival materials down and spending the day talking about the history. I was featured in last year's zine without my permission or chance to approve the materials, so I hope that isn't repeated. There were other people working for Market at the time I started in 1976, and they can be featured, though most of them are also in the out-group now.
Being erased, even with my own cooperation, is harsh and I have struggled with it. If my only value was all the free and low-cost services I gave, better that I be erased. If my regard was dependent on my unquestioning support of questionable and corrupt management attitudes and procedures, that ship sailed. It used to be regarded as helpful and part of the process when people raised objections so that things could be worked on more to address the reasons, but that is also no longer possible. Anyone who criticizes is soon put into the nasty complainer category and dismissed or punished. Sycophants only with this regime.
Meanwhile we will continue funding bad management as they spend our savings to cover their lack of skills and misuse of resources, and have little to no say about it. A few people are working hard to hold people accountable but everything is done with the manipulative positive spin that never includes any of the finer points that make these problems so knotty. Things are just left out of the minutes. The four-hour meeting minutes said nothing about what happened in those hours. Stripped out. You had to be there.
And very few people are in the actual rooms where the dysfunction would be revealed. As with OCF, the diligent volunteers have largely left in disgust leaving the cult members in charge, an erosion which will just continue. There will always be a few warriors but we have never had to deal with a real narcissist before and they have tactics that are just impossible to defeat in normal process. It might take a crisis of magnitude, which of course I do not wish upon us, but is always a possibility.
We had a good April and the drying of the climate works for us until it won't. When we get high heat or smoke intrusions or other weather catastrophes, we will see how many members are dedicated. When it gets hard, people get selfish. When fees are raised to cover what is needed, it won't be staff who will suffer the deprivation. Not that I want people to suffer...I just want staff to have realistic and solid financial accountability when spending the members' money.
If we are no longer a mutual benefit membership organization, we may suffer a profound change that will destroy what we have built. If we are just stakeholders or shareholders of a corporation, the power of the management is complete. The bylaws will need a rewrite. The culture will be a different culture. This may have already happened. Maybe that is why I had to be pushed out...I was carrying the standard of our member culture that was so precious and important to us. This may be more that just a tax identification issue. I'm trying hard to hold my broken heart pieces together as I figure out how to let go of what I thought my life was founded on and dedicated to.
But it's my birthday and that is all about me, so I will eat all the treats I bought myself and play outside today and tomorrow and try to inhabit my life with joy, which it contains a lot of when I stop and notice how I feel in my core. I am proud of all I have done in this life, and I'm not finished. There is still refinement to do and maintenance to keep up with and I think I can do this aging process with some amount of grace. We'll see I suppose. Eliminating the bullies and manipulators from my spheres can only help me reach my goals.
And the sun is out. One Calla Lily has managed to bloom along with tons of other flowers so I can pick my usual kitchen full of beauty and maybe I will open the sparkling wine. Maybe I won't. It's all up to me. You don't need to call me on my day of solitude. I know you love me. Why wouldn't you? I am a delightful bag of wrinkled skin and my bones only hurt in a few places. I'm still solid.
The bag he bought was black with juicy, handpainted peaches on it. So much metaphor for one Saturday.