Michelle Shocked has a song, “The Secret to a Long Life.” The secret is knowing when it is time to go. If anything, I’m an overly sensitive judge of that timing. As a Gemini, I’m supposed to be especially good at moving on down the road. Usually, on the way out the door of a job, I wish everyone well and express hope for their prosperity. What I really want is for the whole friggin thing to fall apart in my absence. That way, they will finally realize my true and full value to the organization.
So what happens when the apocalypse does not come? Perhaps I was not the lynch pin I assumed myself to be. Or maybe organizations are more resilient than they appear. Both, in fact, are likely. I’ll maintain that I (upchuck alert) add value to most organizations I have worked for. I’ve also managed to dodge some bullets when I’ve gotten out of a job before a cataclysm has hit. But I have yet to see a place go out of business because I was not there.
In fact, in the case of the Valley of Love and Delight, it’s possible that some good things are happening because I’m not in the middle of things like a glob of cholesterol in the aorta. Even when I know a change needs to come, I can be an obstacle to making that change happen. Personal loyalty, sentimentality, or nostalgia can keep me from contributing to the process of reform. So, rather than falling apart because I’m not there, the Valley of Love and Delight may be finding its way in part because I am not there to screw it up. And while I’m excited to see the direction in the Valley, there is a part of me that still wants to be vindicated by a full on Armageddon.