Toronto is in the middle of one of its worst garbage strikes ever. For over a month the rubbish has piled so high that the stench and associated health risks are starting to become a major public hazard, especially with the lethal combination of heat and summer rain storms.
As I drove through this (otherwise) beautiful city, i thought about how the processing of waste, whether it is a city, a business, institution, house or human body is such a central part of our health and well being.
Then I began to think about how mad people would get if someone was to throw garbage onto their doorstep, and yet when someone whispers rubblish (bad mouthing another human being, nationality, race or group), some tolerate this, some refuse to taken in the toxic sentiments and others not only consume the stench, but beg for more.
When people bad-mouth others, is it any different than throwing rubbish onto each others front door. Negativity consumes, it erodes our ability to see what is really goin on in a flexible, fearless, resilient way. The stench of negativity towards others warps an individuals and an organizations ability to function effectively.
I have worked with firms where regularly and without consideration, simply putting the competition down was a celebrated trait, but then the same negativity would eventually spill over into other departments, functions and vendor partners and as a result, consume institutional capacity with nonsense/noise.
Once the municipal civic workers strike is over in Toronto, the garbage trucks will return and is likely to take weeks and a concerted effort to remove all these piles of stench. As a result of this combined effort, this beautiful city buried in rubbish will breath again, it will be revealed once again for one-and-all to enjoy.
What effort would it take to remove all the negativity we have taken in over the years, to rediscover and appreciate ourselves for what we are and allows others to do the same?
"Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed."
Othello; Act III, scene iii
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