9-5-13 RMB Your Best

9-5-13 RMB Your Best

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

I told her, “If you think you are doing your best, be happy with that.” The young intern sat at her desk with tears in her eyes, having been raked over the coals by our supervisor. I watched her gather strength from the words. Her back straightened; her chin raised a bit. She had, indeed, done her best. She had done the work well.

In other, intangible areas, she fell short of other’s expectations, expectations vaguely defined and shifting by degrees. To me the work is always of utmost importance, eclipsed only by the will to do one’s best, regardless of the outcome. To others, there is a game of positioning. In work, as in life, often the difference between right and wrong is a judgment call. Whether we do good, good enough or outstanding, is all relevant to perception…and the composition of the person doing the perceiving.  

I attempted to instill in her the knowledge that the individual that counts most, the one who’s judgment is critical and above all others, is herself. She listened carefully and I wished I had more powerful words, ones to counter those that wounded her.

In our vast and multifaceted universe, when we find ourselves surrounded by people or circumstances causing discomfort in anyway, we can search out and find a better place to be. My issues with change cause me to struggle with this, but our young teenaged intern was easily guided by her inner compass. She gave her notice the next day.

Maybe this day and the look in her eyes haunt me because now change is afoot and I must deal with it…maybe I am just miffed because I will have to train another person. Isn’t that what everything is about, our self and how we are effected? I’d like to think I am not that shallow, but I am sure it is a part of it.

So why am I writing about this? Am I just a softy, wounded by another’s pain? This doesn’t feel like a wound. It feels like anger; anger that we must push and pull and hurt one another in our effort to move forward. There must be a better way and it frustrates me to no end that it eludes us; that even in my own circles, there are injuries, and although they are minor, everything is relative.

Respectfully,

Loraine