"Pick yourself up and start all over again." - Resilience

Yesterday was Remembrance Sunday in the UK.


I could say Remembrance Sunday changed my life, but perhaps not in the way one might imagine.


I had been a local poppy seller for some years, going door to door in the village I lived in. On the Saturday before Remembrance Sunday, I took part in the street collection in the local town. Collectors had their favourite position, over which they became quite territorial through the years. As the weather tended towards the chilly and damp, being undercover was sought after.


In 1985, I went into town early, determined to get a prime position. I succeeded. Outside a Waitrose supermarket and undercover. There was a steady stream of people, with occasional lulls. During one of these lulls I started to read the notice board.


At the time I was running a playgroup in the afternoons, primarily for convenience and enjoyment. My former husband wanted me to earn some useful money, so I found an early morning job in a neighbouring town, filling shelves in Boots the Chemists. On the Waitrose notice board there was a notice advertising a position for an early morning shelf filler. Waitrose were the food shops of the larger John Lewis Department Store group and had a good reputation. The supermarket was much nearer home too, so when I finished poppy selling, I went into the shop and asked about the vacancy.


I was not to know that the department manager I spoke to and who ultimately offered me the job, was not the department manager who had put the notice in the window. It turned out that they dislikes each other intensely and I had been 'poached'.


I loved the working environment. I may have only been putting bread on the shelves, but I took pride in my work and soon was asked to do the ordering and offered an increase in hours. I would look at some of the shop floor managers and think, "I could do that".  I ventured to ask if I could be considered for a training programme. It may surprise those who know me, that due to my educational non achievements, I had no reason to believe that I was capable of managing anything in a workplace. My out of work activities would have shown otherwise. But this was the workplace and I knew my limits...or thought I did. No mention of transferable skills in those days.


This isn't a fairy story, well, a Grimm fairy tale perhaps.  I rose quite quickly and decided to run before I could walk, terrified that at 37 years old I was 'over the hill'. It's laughable now. I changed shops and made a complete fool of myself. I look back on the year 1987 with complete horror. If I had to write a book on 'emotional arousal can make you stupid', then what happened to me that year alone would fill it up and it wasn't all at work.


For more on emotional arousal:
http://emotionalgrowth.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-cant-do-it-frightened-of-failure.html


With hindsight, maybe I learnt the most about life and myself that year. Before the horror year, I was in a management training meeting. A visiting shop manager was asked what quality he felt was most needed by managers. He answered, "Resilience. The ability to be like a wobbly bottomed doll, who gets pushed down and bounces back...many times." I remember thinking what an odd thing it was to say and couldn't understand what he was talking about. A year later I discovered what he meant. But maybe that's what I've always had anyway. 


Perhaps Resilience is the word needed in my 'backbone' story:
http://emotionalgrowth.blogspot.com/2011/10/let-goplease-emotional-baggage.html


So I rose, fell and crawled slowly upwards again and beyond. I thought that I would still be with Waitrose now, but I moved north in 1994 to a Waitrose and John Lewis free zone, which meant that my working life had to change.  The irony is that as on the very weekend I moved again last year, a branch of Waitrose opened in York. Now there's news of a John Lewis opening there too.


That's not the only irony connected with this story. After years of battles with the local council, the shop where I had the awful time was eventually knocked down and rebuilt. Part of the new complex included a small cinema. Twelve years after I had left the shop, my wonderful family, not knowing anything of my personal trauma, organised an amazing 'surprise' 50 birthday party for me at the cinema with friends from 45 years of my life.


So on the very spot of some of the most miserable working experiences of my life, I enjoyed a very happy time. 


Since then, I've continued to step out of my comfort zone on occasions, but been a little wiser. I've been tidying up my study and found this poem:


ONLY A PERSON WHO RISKS IS FREE
by Author Unknown

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your ideas, your dreams,
before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To believe is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken, because the
greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The people who risk nothing, do nothing,
have nothing, are nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change,
grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes they are slaves;
they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.


After all, if I get knocked down, I'll bounce back, won't I?


©RitaLeaman2011