know that this is a transitory power, reflective powers based on the force of somebody else; the new manager, the new General Manager, the new superior ... Practically speaking it is the temporary power of spies. A brief power, since sooner or later there will be a new manager, a new General Manager, a new… and then “stop the movement” hoping that the next manager (General Manager or other) or the one after him will put back the “well-known” group back into the game.
However it is a pity that leadership is something else and that life is made up of other things and both have a minimum common denominator: dignity of the individual. This is an individual value, univocally for each one of us, of our history. It is a value that is “non adhesive”. Nobody can transmit it by contact, it belongs to each one of us! Each one of use must nourish it and let it grow by our own actions. This virtue cannot be “stolen” in any way, unless you possess it, nor can you only be spectators. Often it is not even convenient to be a spectator in case of a repentance or a pang of conscience. It is useless to think in great lines or for great enterprises. What we really need is the daily example, even a small one, in all small things, by performing actions, and not meditating great sceneries, epic events and vengeances at your wish.
To conclude: what can we say to those who continuously ask themselves (but who in the mean time continue to work and supply their own contribution): “Why do I try to work hard when everything around me is desolation and the only maniacal intention is not letting yourself be involved or at least let yourself be involved without true participation?” To become involved and take an active part means risking an unsuccessful result. And neither we nor our lives foresee the word defeat (and as it were, it is possible to survive without exposing oneself ...)
It is enough to wait for the next
superior, General Director,
shareholder, the next grey
manager... above all it is
necessary to bow in reverence until the next time and send dignity to hell, since it has an unfamiliar ring and its value has vanished by now.
I may be disturbed[…] Even Heroes have the right to bleed
Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face
that she keeps in a jar by the door Who is it for