Federal Employee Disability Retirement: The din of silence

They are opposites, and yet they can confer meaning and communicate conceptual clarity by the very usage of simultaneous reflection in conjoined placement within a singular sentence of repose.  Can silence be of such tumultuous unnerving, and a confusion of loud noises be characterized within the context of its opposite, and still retain a clear sense of meaning?  Would it make the similar, mirror-image sense if we transposed and flipped those same words, and instead spoke about the “silence of din”?

That makes it sound like a movie title, or a short story encompassing a mysterious foreign land where Zen monks chant within the quiet gaze of an assassin’s eye.  But there are times when silence becomes so overwhelming in its quietude, that truths become revealed and concealed perspectives are suddenly manifested, and it is during those moments of enlightening revelations that realizations of necessity come to the fore (or, perhaps, it merely means that our stomachs are rumbling and we are merely hungry).

To paraphrase Bertrand Russell, the ever-mischievous agnostic, who once quipped that when a person thinks that questions of eternal salvation, the need for a higher being and questions of profundity encapsulating transcendent issues and metaphysical concerns begin to invade and come to the fore, it is probably nothing more than indigestion and a good pharmacological prescription pill should take care of it.  But it really does not work the other way, or make any sense, does it?

There is no “silence of din” – the latter is just that, a tumultuous cacophony of deafening onslaught, and that describes most of living in modernity, where the search for a slice of silence within that din is like a breath of eternal sighs in exasperated tones of forgiving acrimony.

But there is a “din of silence” – that moment when we can stand in the unprovoked thoughts of our own reflections, when we can remove ourselves for a slice of contractions where pain cannot reach and confusion will not confound, and it is in the monastic paradigm of clashes where worth and value coalesce, when thought and action extend, and how the true essence of a person becomes revealed in a moment of naked reality.  But then, the real world comes crashing back, and we awaken from the slumber of transcendence.

There is, often in the momentary timelessness between reality and slumber, a realization of that which needs to be accomplished in order to move forward.  That is the point when the Federal or Postal employee, who experiences the pain of a medical condition, must decide as to whether to continue in the same modality as the “rest of the world” in trying to just survive, or to “move on” to another stage of life.

It sometimes takes the din of silence to figure that out; but for the Federal or Postal employee who suffers from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal position, it is never advisable to wait for the din of silence before deciding to file a Federal Disability Retirement application with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset; for, in the end, you may end up in the silence of din before achieving the peaceful repose of the din of silence.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirements: The verse of 1-liners

Can a verse stand alone, isolated in its metrical composition, without preceding or succeeding contextual delineations?  Of what value can the singular have, without the surrounding aggregation of the whole?  Like a scrap or fragment of a larger narrative revelation, of archaeologists and anthropologists working with but a piece of the greater story, the verse of 1-liners forever echoes for a harkening of others to join.

John Donne poetically captured the sense of that isolation, and Thomas Merton wrote a reflective narrative upon that very theme; but there we are, still left with the hollowness of an island’s separation, revealed by a lack, concealed by non-existence. We can, of course, always pretend that nothing came before, and there is no need for the after; but, somehow, such a vacuum of emptiness left alone in the quietude of a vast sea floating amidst the morass of a lonely singularity, doesn’t quite fit the narrative we all seek.

And it is not merely the personhood; it can be in the context of one’s past, where the currency of experiential encounters would lack meaning without an untold yearning for the future, and nothing to rely upon of what we recognize as the prefatory period of living.  Perhaps that is why people seek to unseal adoption records and search for the origins of genetic lineage; of why hope for a more promising tomorrow is necessary for the healthy preservation of every human being; it is because, without a connection to the past, nor a window of hopeful vision for the future, human beings are left with being a mere verse of a 1-liner.

There are monks and hermits in lonely pockets of isolated caverns, where meditation upon the consciousness of self or the wider phenomena of collective discoveries is attained by deliberate seeking of a singularity for solitude’s sake, in hermitages jutting out from cliffs afar; but that is rare, much like the monophonic sacredness of the Gregorian chant, reverberating across the valleys of our own sense of isolation and despair.

Or, perhaps that verse of a 1-liner (note the singular grammatical ascription, now, as opposed to the plural as reflected in the title of this narrative) can possess a gemstone of wisdom, and in that event, it can stand alone in the strength of its own lack of plurality. But for the rest of us, we recognize that it is the support of the greater whole that gives meaning, purpose and relevance to the lives we mold and hope to embrace.

That is why, for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who come to a point of realization and recognition that the medical condition which developed, and which has come to a crossroads where the medical condition prevents the Federal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, and therefore will cut short the career of one’s choice, the option to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is a final admission that one will no longer remain as part of a greater stanza, but become separated as a verse of a 1-liner.

Isolation and separation are concepts alien to a social animal; and for the Federal or Postal employee who must file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM, that concession that the verse of 1-liners has arrived, is indeed a difficult line to accept, but nonetheless a necessary one.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Employment: The cadence of coherence

There is truth, then the ring of truth.  The former may extract a pound of flesh or a quart of blood from the reader, yet allow the subtle entrapment quietly releasing the cornered soul merely by being unpersuasive.  The latter, despite often lacking in some essential details, will nevertheless engulf the audience, whether intended or indirect and unaware, into a comatose purring of half-conscious slumber, where acceptance of an argument because of a danger of violating the pleasantry of the moment is more important than embracing the facts themselves.

That is, of course, what is ultimately “wrong” with the writing style of a diatribe; it is the seething, subterranean anger in the undercurrent of a volatile eruption like the bursting lava from an unconstrained volcano where civilizations perish and survivors flee with but the clothes on their backside, which fails the purposive teleology of a barrage of words.

The persuasive outlier must possess the heart of a musician, the humor of an invited conversationalist, and the soul of a philosopher; otherwise, the dinner audience may begin to yawn and request to excuse themselves for various reasons, including an early exit for want of company.

The truth is, truth itself is boring.  It needs sugar, spice and all that is nice; wrapped in paper which stands out, but refuses the ostentatious condiments of vulgarity in a universe surrounded by stellar vacuity.  Convincing truth, on the other hand, possesses a disposition of a rhythmic melody, orchestrated with precision by a master with a conductor’s baton not made of any particular wood, but where the waving and weaving flows in consonance with the confluency of nature, artifice and linguistic pablum.

In any effective narrative, there must always retain the cadence of coherence.  That is often the “trouble” with Federal Disability Retirement applicants who formulate his or her own narrative of persuasive concoctions; will the U.S. Office of Personnel Management drink of the vitriol seething beneath the surface of turmoil?  Will the obvious diatribe translate into a persuasive cadence of coherent ideations?

Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM, whether under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, have a dual whammy of obstacles to face:  They themselves must be the focus of the narrative; and, moreover, they themselves must present a voice of objectivity.  Both are immediately undermined when the medical condition itself is the very reason, rationale and underlying foundation for which the entire Federal Disability Retirement application must be prepared, formulated and forwarded to one’s Agency (if not yet separated, or separated from the Federal sector but not for more than 31 days) or directly to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Preparing the answers required on SF 3112A (Applicant’s Statement of Disability) requires a quiet, rhythmic cadence of coherence; to do so, the origin, source and inception of the narrative must emanate from a composite core made of materials tougher than metal, yet sensitive enough to touch upon that human yearning which defines the empathy of timeless angels.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire