The Great Forgetting and Reinvention
The cursor blinks. A patient, rhythmic pulse of nothingness in a text box labeled ‘Accomplishments: Core Value Alignment – Synergy.’ The corporate portal, a masterpiece of late-2008 design, flashes a small, almost apologetic warning in orange text: ‘Your session will expire in 8 minutes.’
It’s December 18. Outside, the world is winding down for the holidays. Inside, you are performing a strange act of professional archeology, digging through the fossilized remains of your own calendar from 11 months ago. What did I do in February? There was a project, the ‘Atlas Initiative’ or something. You vaguely remember a series of urgent meetings, a flurry of spreadsheets. You solved a problem. A significant one. But the form doesn’t want the problem; it wants the narrative. It wants you to take the messy, chaotic, collaborative reality of that work and package it into a neat, sterile bullet point that sounds suspiciously like the corporate values poster in the breakroom.
This is the annual ritual. The great forgetting, followed by the great reinvention. We are all historical fiction authors, and our main character is a version of ourselves that is competent, strategic, and always, always ‘driving impact.’
Let’s be clear