Traditions

My sis and the kids presented me with a Waterman Carene fountain pen this morning. I start my new job tomorrow, a job that is a first for me in quite a number of ways. This is not the first time I have stepped into a managerial role but it's the first where I have family to share it with. Yes, I am feeling like the most fortunate gal alive right now! Thank you, dearest sis and the kids for this.

Giving someone you love and/or respect a new pen upon them ascending to a notable job or promotion is a tradition that is mostly lost these days. It's been a tradition that I've seen in my family and something I'm keeping alive for the next generation. If I'm not mistaken, I'm the first woman in my family to ever make it this far in the corporate world, ironically because I'm not saddled with the burden of cultural imperative given how far away I am from the rest of my birth family! I don't know from whence this tradition came from but if I had to guess, it probably stems from the old age-of-sail era, when a naval officer made senior command rank and was given a new (far better quality) sword to commemorate the ascension. Over time, captains of warships became captains of industry as peace broke out and I imagine the tradition shifted from swords to pens then - an apt transition if you ask me, both sharp, pointed weapons equally capable of saving and destroying lives.

Traditions are important, doubly so in this modern era where the things that make us civilized have become subsumed by the cult of the individual. I'm not saying that all traditions are good - there are some that are just plain wrong and should be condemned as the ignorant excesses of a bygone benighted age. We are people of reason, and reason should prevail as with all things.

Why is the gifting of a pen important? It's the same way that an officer's sword represents his honour - remember that in a court martial, the verdict is displayed by the defendant's sword. If it's pointing towards him, he's been found guilty, accused by his honour. Also remember that when judgment is carried out, the guilty officer's sword is snapped in half.

No, the job I'm going into doesn't have any of the mortal severity that naval officers at that time had. Not even close. I am, at best, a middle manager now and while I would like to slide into delusions of grandeur, the worst I can do is maybe make the stock drop a few cents by my idiocy. After over a month of unemployment, I'm eager to return to the corporate world and strive towards the greater glory of my company. Yes, I'm a dinosaur in that respect but I simply cannot work for a company I do not believe in.

I'm looking at my pen, feeling its weight, admiring the sharp clean lines tipped by a sharp clean nib. There's a scratch in the metal down one end of the nib and in a previous life, that would have bothered me to no end and spoilt my enjoyment. These days, the imperfection doesn't mar my appreciation of it - I no longer see it as a scratch but as a character flaw...and who amongst us doesn't have any? One more uniqueness in my life.

In the end, a pen is merely a pen and that's not the point. The point is that my sis and her kids have chosen to honour my traditions and it is that love which I have to be worthy of.

Oy, I'm in trouble now. :)