Working for self

The air feels cool outside. A thick layer of clouds sits atop the low-slung horizon. I sit outside, and a colleague joins me for lunch. It’s not planned and welcome.

We talk about life outside of work. He says he doesn’t take up employment that takes up time outside of work hours. He doesn’t even know his monthly take-home pay. A majority of his income comes from property.

He buys to rent, not to sell. The key to success is buying low and getting a good tenant in who pays both the mortgage/bond and levies/fees.

Once, a property owner asked for R2.3m, he offered R1.5m. The final sales price ended up being R1.8m.

When a property appreciates, he takes a loan against the appreciated value and puts it towards another property. He once used his pension fund as a surety against a purchase. Making his pension work double-time in his favor.

He says he does what he is told. He’s an employee, and so he does what’s required to take home his pay. Some time ago, he got bored of doing the same thing day in and out. To save himself, he created his own company to challenge himself. Taxes. Financial accounting. Operations. He had to learn. He had to do. That was probably 10 years ago already. He also cites his laziness being the driver of all that he does. He doesn’t want to work until the age of 65.

He doesn’t come across as a wheeler and a dealer, but the best ones rarely show their true colors.

Case study before hiring is a must

Widening gap between the glossy CV and actual skillset

22 seconds to skim a CV before tossing it into one of the three piles: Yes, No, or Maybe.

20% make it to the next round. Candidates claim they have what it takes to do the job, and I’m pleased to be able to choose from a large pool of qualified candidates.

They are invited to conduct a case study to test their basic commercial acumen and analytical capabilities. 4 out of 5 return empty spreadsheets. One of them haven’t finished reading 250 word instructions the entire hour has lapsed. The highest scorer gets 2.5 out of 5. The ones invited to case interview can’t tell me 20% of 30 billion.

Time to recalibrate expectations. It’s not a large pool after all. People are overstating their qualifications and capabilities. Or perhaps, educational institutions are pumping out less qualified work force. Or, have the applicants gotten better at crafting their CVs and cover letters? Whatever the cause, they do not what it takes to get the job done.

Hiring managers must understand the make-up of an ideal candidate before shortlisting: What must she/he an expert of, what shortcomings are acceptable, and bare minimum criteria. As a generalist, I need in-source key skillset out of my reach. I may not have time to upskill. Most likely, I am unqualified in this domain, and that’s why I am hiring!

Hiring the wrong person is worse than losing the vacancy especially in countries with tight labour laws. That’s why I rely on case studies to gauge demonstrated capability and candidate’s ability to apply logic. If the case study looks promising, I invite them to interview. During the behavioural panel interview, I create a stressful environment to measure their ability to cope with stress, remain composed as well as test their social and communication skills.

Is it too high of a bar? One recruiting agent told me so. But we’re trying to run a business here, and we must all earn our keep.

Value of money

I’m shopping for a used car. It may be cheaper to buy a new one. The first dealer I went to charged more for the used car, when comparing it to the brand new model.

I didn’t know any better. Except I know best to ask the experts working for VW. They were shocked and told me so.

I’m not sure if I should spend another $1000 to buy a “better” car. Or, go down and save about the same amount. Because at the end of the day, both will be covered by the manufacturer warranty.

Some may say I’m splitting hairs. They may have a point. But I wonder, what else could I get for that $1000. A month’s mortgage payment. Two weekend trips to a friend’s wedding. 10 Fancy dinners for two. 10 awesome outfits. When I assign the value of experience, the $1000 seems like a lot. But in absolute terms, it’s only $1000.

The car I drive doesn’t define me. It must get me from point A to B safely and economically. And so, I guess I’m leaning towards saving money. Purchase a used car with fewer than 20,000 kilometers less than R160,000. That’s about $15,000.

 

Blessed – thank you

I wish I could dial back the clock and prevent the accident. Go on that safari. But some good came of it.

A friend came to get us as soon as I called her. A four hour drive.

Another friend drove eight hours to reach us.

A friend found a place for me to stay the night while the three were admitted. She even sent some money for the night’s stay.

Family back home did everything they could.

Few work friends help me sort out the insurance.

Everyone gave words of encouragement and asked what they could do.

Even the radiology administrator: Michael. His daughter and I have the same birthday. He volunteers to work every new years and Christmas.  Everyone let me charge my phone off of their desktops. Everyone was kind enough to offer condolences. The guy at the pharmacy backdated the meds because the day I got the prescription, I was too preoccupied to fill them.

All the friends who gave me referrals for the plastic surgeon. The surgeons who spoke to me and answered questions while they were on vacation by the beach.

The parents and boyfriend who offered assistance despite their own malady.

I’m still worried. Giant bottle of anxiety, worry and blame is contained inside. It seeps out and I turn avoidant. I still wish I could have a month off where I can turn off the world and its inhabitants. I wish I could rest.

But for now, I am grateful. I am truly blessed. This too, shall pass. All good things. All bad things. They must come and go.

The aftermath

The car rolled four times. I was the driver on a gravel road. Three injured. Being short has its advantages – I walked away unscathed.  The aftermath, I’d say was even more traumatic than the accident itself for me. I still suffer from bouts of survival guilt, but I have no choice but to trudge on.

Waiting for the ambulance that didn’t come. Handing the key to the wrong tow truck. Burning cash to pay for the x-rays. CTs. Hospital admissions. Worrying about the now. Panicking about the future.

At least everyone is stable now. We’re all breathing on our own, standing on our own two feet. Little things we take for granted. I went to the gym few days ago…how lucky everyone is to have their biggest worry be to lose weight or get strong.

Dad experienced allergic reaction to heavy pain meds. Couldn’t breathe. Cold. Dizzy.

Upon researching causes for neck pain, I grow grateful once again. In South Africa, he didn’t have to wait to get an MRI. As soon as the payment guarantee letter was issued from overseas, they spent an hour doing the MRI, while the expert radiologist was looking through his laptop at home. A neurosurgeon was promptly contacted for further care. The emergency doctors are not specialists, but they had access to the network.

People often ask me why I don’t live in the USA. The same applies for the parents. I always tell them that I prefer the life in South Africa. The people here are so sweet and nice. Their attitude towards life weaves the pleasant culture that permeates in all that we do. Despite the horror of the accident, they are beginning to see why I speak so fondly of this place I call home.

 

Is it already 2018?

About this time last year, I spent full week writing 12 chapters describing the year 2016. This year is a bit different. Why? Car accident. Hospital visits. Survival’s guilt. Gratitude for things and friendships I’ve cultivated. Regrets for how things could have been. Should have been. Moving on. Avoiding things and people. This vicious cycle. The avoidance tactic. The need to tackle things head on. The careful dance between the light and accompanying shadow.

The fear takes over. Hope triumphs. Using this as an opportunity to get to know the two family members. Getting deeper into myself. Getting deeper into the other person. Leaning. Expecting. Taking a step back. Wanting self-preservation.

A big picture, we must be able to see. Except I wish I could wish everything away and let the good moments linger just a bit longer.

 

Admin day

I spent six hours shopping and taking care of boring yet necessary administration yesterday.

  1. Six clothing items brought to the tailor to be fixed or altered.
  2. Specialty Korean grocery store.
  3. Food from regular grocery store.
  4. Pick up mail
  5. Shopping for clothes. Upon conducting a cost-benefits analysis, two items will be returned.
  6. Bulk purchased consumables to save future shopping time.

At least, I was able to check off Write Revival from the blackboard.

(I say this all the time. Why do I stop writing when it gives me so much joy? Why am I prioritizing someone else whence by doing so, I am killing the thing the very thing that makes me happy? Can you relate?)

I guess it’s like admin. It’s difficult to set aside time, but once it’s done, it’s done, and it feel good. I don’t only need food to sustain myself but also words to feed my parched soul.

Revival of the words

Goal compromised. Broken promise to the most important person: myself. The self doesn’t go quietly, however. Causing turbulence to make itself be heard. The heart and soul aches and longs for these quiet moments of respite from the outside.

And so, here I am. It is 12th of November with 50 days left of 2017.

What have I been up to during the past ~75 days?

  • Doing two roles in separate business units.
  • Getting to know two really special people. Myself and the catalyst.
  • Too many events. Attending and planning close friends’ weddings.
  • Getting sick. Recovering. Getting sick again. Recovering still.

Too many people. Especially having them in my own home – it would have been fine if it weren’t for all the social events. Wedding ceremonies the entire weekend. Monday through Saturday: Two people staying over. A game on Monday. A dinner on Tuesday. Another dinner on Wednesday. Making dinner for 3 on Thursday. Going out on Friday. Going out on Saturday.

The body said no and shut down once again. I am grateful for this body that self-regulates. It keeps me alive.

It’s been 15 days since, and I’m at 85%. It’ll take another full week before I reach 100% and my sneezing stops and the haze clears.

living for today, unrestrained…

It does not matter what they said. What I write is not to seek gratitude nor validation. It is from my heart, sparked from the heart far and near as the two hearts play along to the soulful sing-song of the deepest sorrows and deepest joys.

I want to live. As if I’m at the end of my days. Not to be reckless and careless, but extract the most of this life. The miracle of every blink of an eye. The miracle of everyday rising of the sun. The surprising setting of the sun as it explodes across the sky, before welcoming the darkness guided by the gentleness of the moonlight.

I want to live unbounded by today’s conventional and untrue ways. To not be too far from the soil from which we’re born and extinguished. Not too far from the truth that once held our tribes together, bound by character and trust now long lost and longed for.

living and leaving

When the world can no longer hold back the beloved from reaping his lifelong harvest, he receives an invitation to lay atop bountiful blossom. Transported within soft embrace of all those he’s loved, he is propelled by the hopes and dreams sprouting from his seeds planted and nurtured in our hearts.

During his ascent, his flame dances and grows across the tinder of his offspring, before it dwindles and extinguishes by the tears mourning his loss, finalizing his departure to the other side. Overcome with grief, the offspring are yet unable to recognize their own emboldened spirit, lit by the torch of the departed, to be sustained by the fuel of their own brilliance.

Until one day, we stare into the mirror to find the departed smiling through the twinkle of our own eyes. Our dreams lift off, carrying our spirits higher within the core, lighting the sky as shooting stars, trying their best to reach the ones we miss the most. The luminosity increases as they reach the grateful recipient, the gardener to whom we owe our existence.

He will always be missed. This is by design, don’t you see? The gap is too big and wide to fill. The gap is the new soil to be tilled and tended to plant our own garden. To reap the joys of our sweat and tears before embarking on our own journey before being propelled to the other side like all the others who came before us.