It doesn’t make the waiting easy.
It doesn’t take away the disappointment of not being chosen.
It doesn’t make us less hopeful that this baby is the one.

Please don’t tell me that things happen for a reason, that it’s all going to work out, and that when we do get our baby, we’ll be glad this is the baby we got. Or are you seriously worried  there’s a chance that when the baby comes I’ll look at it and say, “Meh. I guess he’s okay. I bet that baby I almost got three months ago would have been way more awesome though.”

How do you know when expectations are too high though? What happens when you put someone up on such a high pedestal they can never be what you expect?

Not long ago I was hanging with a friend who acknowledged that he knew my relationship with a mutual acquaintance was negative. He asked why if I didn’t care for the person it had to be an issue? Why not just move on with my life and never encounter the acquaintance? There was no reason for me to feel dislike; I could just feel nothing.

At the time, it stunned me a little. I didn’t have a good answer and I wondered why it mattered to me. Why couldn’t I just chalk this up to mis-matched personalities and move on? There wasn’t anything all that offensive about my acquaintance and truthfully, my first impression had been so positive. I believed I found a professional role model and eventually, I came to think this was also a good friend. It was someone I turned to for career advice, to test a new idea, or to vent about frustrations I encountered in a typical day.

What was wrong with me that I could go from total respect and admiration to feeling critical and uncomfortable? I had spent over a year admiring this individual from a distance- loving the writing, the ideas, the personae. In time, I came to know this person better and to see this person’s humanity. For most, this would be relationship-building. It would have been the foundation for a transition from distant admiration to true friendship. Learning about this person’s imperfections could have built intimacy. I could have seen these “flaws” as the character-building traits that provided the brilliance and insight for which I had previously reserved a position high on a pedestal. Instead, those flaws became a reason to completely disengage, to avoid, and to build distance. I took what could have been a growth experience and I walked away.

At my best, I love easily and unconditionally. I make friends with cab drivers and strangers at restaurants. I am energized by meeting people. I enjoy new experiences solely for the opportunity to encounter new people. As someone so amazed by others, it’s not hard to believe that it takes a lot for me to give up on a  relationship. I keep in touch. I reach out. I don’t let others go.

Except when I do.

Months of wondering what the letting go is about led me to notice a trend. The relationships I abandon are always with people I admired from a distance, who I looked up to, who I expected the very best from and who turned out to be human: The girl I wanted to be on the first semester of college; the ex-boyfriend I thought would bring a new level of excitement and stability to me; the employee I was sure would raise the whole department to a new level of  innovation.

When these people did not meet my expectations, I took it personally. I couldn’t see that they weren’t breaking promises to me; they were just being themselves.W

Being able to always see the best in others is a gift, but projecting unrealistic expectations and then being hurt when those go unmet is at least as damaging as expecting too little in the first place. I can and will still believe in the very best in people, but I am newly committed to seeing the best present itself in a way that might not be exactly what I expect. I hope that someday I’ll even get to the point where I find the greatest beauty lies in the unexpected truths I learn about others.

Catching up on this morning’s twitter feed led led me to click on a link to credit union guru Denise Wymore’s blog In it, Denise discusses the value of what she learns from her blog buddies and Twitter crew throughout the credit union movement. The post reminded me of a sometimes taken-for-granted thing that I love about the credit union movement: We are cooperators in cooperatives. We band together. We help each other out. While I believe the blogosphere is a sub-culture of the credit union movement, not typically inclusive of leaders making the decisions today, I know that at every level of the movement, collaboration is taking place. There is still room to grow it, and Filene is working on making that happen, but just the way things are right now, there is collaboration. We are working together to build financial independence for everyone. 

This morning, I also drew inspiration from a new source: Dick Hughes writes commentary for the Salem, OR-based Statesman Journal and shared his thoughts about activists for Invisible Children. Invisible Children was created to draw attention to children in Uganda kidnapped and forced into lives as soldiers. On Saturday night, young adults in 100 cities around the world held, “The Rescue.” Hughes visited the group at Pioneer Courthouse Square in downtown Portland. He wrote about shivering youth bundled in North Face sleeping bags and mentioned his own freezing hands during the hour he spent outdoors.  I couldn’t help but notice the seemingly intentional irony, comparing these complaints of temporary discomfort to the abhorrent conditions Uganda’s children face perpetually.  While I feel called to do something when I hear people in my world are suffering, and while I’m moved by the students at itty bitty Silverton High School that raised tens of thousands of dollars to help, this is not what spoke to me most. It was this little statement from Hughes to the youth:

“You are so comfortable with technology that you have good friends worldwide,
even though you’ve never met in person.”

Hughes goes on to encourage these young adults to maintain that faith in one another, to keep up the fellowship,  and to refrain from succumbing to cynicism and distrust. 

I often feel out of place in this world. Grand scale, Sky-is-Falling scenarios of the economy bringing us all down and a swine flu pandemic that could kill us all make it easier on the cynics. It seems like everywhere you turn, there’s a case for why the world sucks.

This morning though, thanks to people like Denise Wymore and Dick Hughes, I am the winner. They took time to tell the story of the man who called a naive young employee to give her a quick lesson in internet tact that may just save her career, and the story of young adults who believe wholeheartedly that after a couple of decades of slumber, activisim is back and bigger than ever. They provide the reminder that while the world is big and there will always be something that keeps the whole thing from being sunny and 70, no matter who you are, there is a world out there of people who care. If you take the time to embrace a cause– whether that is financial independence or removing oppressive conditions in countries on the other side of the world– you will likely find a group of advocates to welcome you openly and help you fight that battle.

So. While I am overwhelmed, and while I know I can never do enough all by myself, I am also optimistic. With partnerships within Marion County or support from others in the credit union movement (or most likely a combination of these), I will help make that difference in my community.

Thanks Denise and Dick for the reminder that I won’t be doing it alone.

I’m diligent about writing the grocery list according to store layout. That way, when we’re done with the produce section, we move on to the bakery, then the deli without any backtracking. It maximizes efficiency, and gave me the confidence that I’d be home in time to see Peyton and the boys take the field. But…Who knew Harris Teeter wouldn’t have pre-cut butternut squash or fresh thyme? Now, I know I could have subbed in dried thyme or cut my own butternut squash, but there’s something more gourmet about cooking with fresh herbs, and while I like doing things “from scratch” there’s no satisfaction gained from the labor that is peeling off the hard shell of butternut squash and tearing through the unyielding flesh, and in my case, wasting at least half of it in the battle that ensues.

As my husband and I discussed whether we could find pre-cut butternut squash in the freezer section or if I should put myself through the work of peeling and cutting, the Harris Teeter Produce Guy overheard us and ever-so-nicely intervened with, “If you can’t find any in the freezer section, we’ll cut and wrap some for you.” Now, if you’re not from the DC area, this might be less surprising to you, but all of my local friends responded the same way: “He did WHAT?!” There’s a level of service expected in DC and the bar is right about what you’d expect from the cable or phone company. Sure, they’re glad to help, as long as it can happen during the window of time that’s most convenient for them and only in response to your explicit request. There is no above and beyond in my world anymore. I was too stunned to take HTPG up on his seemingly too goot to be true offer right away and instead I decided to check the freezer section. HTPG then asked if there was anything else he could help with and my husband mentioned we were looking for fresh thyme. HTPG explained they had just run out of dill and thyme, but were expecting more in tomorrow’s shipment. No big deal, I said, I’d use dried, and we ventured on to finish our shopping. Somewhere around the juice aisle, HTPG tracked down my husband with a jar of dried thyme, apologizing that the fresh wasn’t available, but he didn’t want him to have to search the store for the dried. Wow. That was nice, I thought.

After securing our bread, meats, and dairy, we ventured to the freezer section where we saw absolutely no pre-cut butternut squash. Feeling defeated over having to retrace my steps to the produce section, I decided I’d cut my losses and head back to the east side of the store where I could get a whole squash. Fortunately for me, it was close to the restroom and with the amount of caffeine I consume on a regular basis, I don’t typically go without a trip to the ladies’ room for longer than about 30 minutes. I handed off the squash to my husband and headed on my way. In the meantime, HTPG lifted the gourds off Dave’s hands, whisking them away to the back room. I returned from the restroom and, moments later, HTPG emerged from the back with our bright orange produce nicely wrapped in their own plastic containers, no trace of the pale peel that drives me so crazy. Even better: the price marked was the same per pound price I’d have paid to buy the whole squash! (Please see previous reference to how much squash I waste when I cut them up myself. This was practically like a buy-one, get-one-free deal for me!)

Overwhelmed with the sheer amazing-ness of HTPG, we headed toward the check out stand completely speechless. We got in a short line and started unloading our cart. Just as we got down to the last few items, our hero surfaced again. This time, carrying– get this– a package of fresh thyme! He offered it to us, ”if we were still interested” and then took the dried thyme off our hands (which, by the way, I was only buying because of his exceptional customer service. I’ve got lots of dried thyme at home…) 

I can’t stop thinking about him now. I got home in time to watch the whole game, and the Colts 31-3 victory over Baltimore certainly added to the sweetness of the day, but now, on Tuesday, it’s not Colts Rookie Bullitt who is on my mind as Sunday’s big hero. It’s the Harris Teeter Produce Guy whose name I only wish I knew. He’s the type of employee every manager should be so lucky to have.

I am curious what has inspired people to move up, to take the risks associated with the top position, and what the secrets of success are for those who are not in the less desirable half of this equation. What have you done to get the #1 position, and then to succeed with it?

So, in truly original fashion, I used my first name and a shortened version of my last name. Clever. But wait… Don’t judge yet: I was lucky enough to marry a guy whose name can be shortened to mean “Right this minute!” What better way to describe the state I’m currently in than: Now?

And, thank goodness for this blog-naming serendipity or my other experiences with the changed name might leave me thinking giving up my name for an engraved set of wine glasses just wasn’t a good trade off.  Instead, I’m thrilled that I get to be, JillNow! instead of JillMan…See? It just doesn’t work quite right, does it?