Automatic Transmission

I had an epiphany yesterday walking across the parking lot at work.

Somewhere deep within my soul, I have always believed that what I do was important - and that it would be recognized as such. Somewhere, somehow, there would be a knowledge that what I do mattes, that people would recognize that it matters, and that there would be some kind of sincere interest in what we do, how hard we work, and how we contribute.

I realized yesterday that I was wrong.

To use an analogy, I was under the impression that my career field would be recognized as an engine, an important item necessary to the functioning of car.  In reality, while we are very important to how my company functions, we are really the automatic transmission.

Automatic transmissions are just there.  They work silently in the background of the operation of the car.    People don't talk about their automatic transmissions.  They certainly don't think of the operation of them and they really don't give a second thought as to how they contribute to the operation of the car, other than the underlying sense that they work.    All they know is that when they push the gas and shift, the car moves forward.

That's what people really want from what I do as well:  silent, functional, quietly working away in the background.

In one sense such a realization is releasing.  To quote John MacArthur, disillusionment is the the child of illusion.  The reality is that the assumptions I was making, the things I was dreaming would be self evident others, is simply not the case - because others don't view my job the same way.  There's no point in becoming angry or upset about something that is not interpreted your way and never will be.

On the other hand, there's also a sense of disappointment.  Automatic transmissions never are recognized - except, of course, when they break down.  I guess I secretly have craved - am craving - attention, an acknowledgement of the importance of what I do and the challenges in doing it.  In fact, such attention and recognition will never come as a result of this.

The expectation? To be that automatic transmission silently operating in the background with nary a hint of issues.  To meet the increased demands of operational engine capacity by smoothly and instinctively adjusting.  To accept the fact that in world of engines, exteriors and interiors, I am - and will always be - simply a functional part which solely exists to support the rest of the car.