Superseded

So in some fashion, I am on my way to being superseded.

I found out yesterday.  A new position was posted, a position which incorporates a fair number of things that I have been doing over the last 5 years.  In other words, portions of my job - the visible portions, the portions that are outward facing or inward facing at higher levels, are being re-assigned to a new position.  I assume the mundane and the behind-the-scenes work will remain with me.

I am not really sure how to process this information.  On one hand, this has always been my secret fear, the thing that I dreaded happening.  We are taught - or at least the system teaches us - that effort and following commands leads us to higher levels of responsibility and reward.  In point of fact this does not seem to work this way all the time:  just as often, it seems, hard work and effort and following orders leads precisely to the same place we would have traveled all along had we done none of these things.

On the other hand...I do not know that there is an other hand in this case.  There is no really good outcome that springs to mind, at least immediately.  One can make the argument, I suppose, that this is a good sign, that the company is willing to bring in additional skill sets to help grow the organization and that this is fabulous opportunity to learn from someone and eventually advance one's career.  My conundrum is this, of course:  by removing opportunity and redefining expectations to a smaller scope, how does one advance?

I will need to train this new person, of course, as well as the person above them who is coming is as well.  They will arrive with no knowledge of the past years or what has occurred to keep things going and move them forward, will take this knowledge, and then move forward based on the work that has already been done.

My sense in all of this is slowly fading into the twilight, a form that loses coherence and shape as the night approaches.  I assume I will still be present but in a reduced role, like a Betta that moves from the larger space of a tank to the smaller confines of a cup to shake its fins and swim in a muted silence.

I am trying to look for good in all of this:  surely something beneficial will come out of it.  But all I can feel at this moment is a sort of vague sadness, the sense of hopelessness that no matter what one does or the efforts one makes they are pouring buckets of water into dry sand in hopes of making a lake.