No Rewards for Rich Work Ethics

No consequences for poor work ethic and no rewards for rich work ethic. It is what keeps businesses alive and relationships between employer and employee healthy. There is nothing more condescending to a great worker’s confidence than to see poor ethic go ignored and to realize there will be no growth for what they are doing; creates an ominous thought process for the intelligent worker.

“Why am I here?” “What I do does not matter” “I am not valued” “Why should I work hard when they are paid more than I am and do not have to do an eighth of the work for the same job?” “Why bother to try?’ “Why bother to stay?” “I have dedicated years of myself to this place and there is no where for me to grow” “My tenure and loyalty mean nothing” “I mean nothing here” “I have no place here” “This will not benefit my life mentally, emotionally and financially.” “I need to leave at the first opportunity” The thoughts of a mundane drained employee who are aware of their potential, capabilities and value.

No two people will do the same job the same but permitting another intentional slack becomes rewarding to the person who will not apply themselves will tell your worker with good work ethics what they do does not matter. Humans are programmed to need purpose. We need purpose. Whether it is taking care of a child, climbing a mountain, breaking a record, making a person smile or whatever pushes us to move. Our purpose comes from what moves our souls deep within. Some people find purpose in darker contributions to society but nonetheless it is who we are as humans. When you place a creature that needs purpose into a work environment that does not provide purpose but rather turning them into the working mule without purpose; you kill the soul and the excitement that once cared about their place of employment.

Of course we all carry different skill sets and not everyone can get a gold star but humans need to see progress. The frustration of a dying soul in the workplace does not only die at the work place but also in their personal life. It takes away their will to want to live. The unhealthier the work environment and the more the worker struggles; the deeper the death from within. It is in that creepy air zombies are made.

Personally I have had the experience on a deeper level than I care to admit to. There were individuals I enjoyed and others I chose not to engage any further than my obligations; but the lack of value there drained on me. It weighed on my creativity. It stopped me from smiling. The ongoing drama I would be dragged to without my participation exacerbated the death by the needles. I could do the job in my sleep and it was always evident that I was skilled more than they could ever afford but I was never valued enough to be compensated properly. Mentally I was not there. I would walk through the door and systematically smile or wave and work without truly mentally being there. I checked out and became completely dissociative with my environment. I would cue into a laugh when I was supposed to but I was very much dead inside. Only one person ever noticed I had no interest in what they called “girl brained drama” and they also noticed the death of me in there; the little bit of me that was still alive burned like a low flame. They even once told me “You’re a sweetie pie with fire in you eyes”; I think they were trying to see why my fire did not grow or light up the room like I once did before they arrived. I do not think I needed to answer that question for them; it was evidently lucid if anyone just glanced.

It was common for employees to comment on how hard I work and wasn’t valued, and they did not want to be like me; stuck. Those comments were too common. Some employees did not see the point in applying themselves like me because there were no rewards in the end; and I was living proof of that. I planned and waited with my little fire to explode. The longer I stayed the less I knew how undervalued I was and the more draining it became. It always seemed like I was valued just enough to get the job done but not valued enough to be compensated to survive. Made me numb. When my last day finally arrived it seemed unreal. I ventured out into new avenues and streets and then I saw the sun. I felt like Amaterasu finally came out of her cave.

The trees seemed greener. The whips of the waves from the sea wrapped me in their arms. The air I could finally breathe. Sure I knew I would miss the souls I had come across during my tenure but waking up unrobotically demonstrated the change in me. My skin changed and began to look healthier. My hair bounced more. I had time to exercise the way I liked to. I had time to see friends. I had time to see family. I had fucking time; something one can NEVER get back. I began to travel and meet so many different people; some experiences bad and some experiences good. Either experience was fine with me because I felt lighter. The weight was lifted. Did I feel guilty to feeling like that? No, it never seemed like people felt guilt about weighing on me and my fight to survive. I never looked back.

It did sadden me that with a little bit of change and a healthy work environment I would have stayed there until I died; happily. But an unhealthy work environment will kill the soul and my soul wanted to live. I still love the people that I loved there, every single one of them; but I knew i was leaving once I saw the door crack slightly open.