Anticipation

I'm often amazed at the beauty we see every day.
Today, on a drive down the interstate, I saw a couple of geese on a pond, with four or five little geese paddling around. Later, I saw two wild turkeys feeding at the edge of a timberline.
It was a fabulous day in northwest Missouri, the temperature was perfectly brisk, the sun was shining, the sky was filled with those fluffy white clouds - in short - it was lovely.
When this day began, I had no plans. There was no anticipation of these events. It was just a new day. I was not disappointed, because I had no expectations of what this day should be.
Anticipation works both ways.
Yesterday, I went for the second part of a root canal, and my dentist discovered the tooth was cracked down through the root. I suspected it was, I was still in pain even after my dentist dug the root out of the tooth a couple of weeks ago. So, we decided our best option was to pull the tooth. I anticipated that possibility, but hadn't really considered how I might feel about it. Honestly, I don't fear very many things, but I had never experienced having a tooth pulled. Although it was virtually painless until the novocaine wore off, I was afraid. I imagined the roots of this tooth reaching up through my upper jaw, probably ending somewhere near my left eyeball. I was wrong. But it goes to show that the anticipation of an event is usually much worse (and sometimes much better) than the event itself.
Now I have an extra hole in my head. What an unusual feeling. It hurt enough this morning to take a pain killer, but has been bearable most of the day, and I think it will be fine.
Anticipation, in the form of excitement about a coming event, can be just as debilitating. I can spend weeks looking forward to something, building it up in my mind into something much more exciting than it turns out to be. While disappointment is sure to follow when that happens, I am not yet ready to give up the anticipation - whether it leads me to fear or excitement.
Every now and then, when the actual event I've been anticipating takes place, the thrill of learning something isn't as bad as I thought it would be, or is more wonderful than I could have imagined. And that's what makes all the difference.

For now, I am anticipating a night of peaceful, rejuvenating sleep. And when I wake, I will start my day with a wonderful cup of steaming hot coffee and part of an apple fritter. I will look at the Sunday newspaper, and I will remind my husband how much I love him. After that I will fold clothes and decide what I'm wearing to work Monday. I will plant tomatoes and a zucchini. I may decide to go into the office and see what will be waiting for me Monday morning.
I am anticipating another wonderful day.

The Gardener

What's a journey without a little angst? Lacking the actual superpower of mindreading, I am limited to second-guessing the thoughts and plans of those who have a controlling interest in my current career path. The company I work for is getting bigger. Responsibilities are shifting. I sometimes worry about my place in this shift.
I am particularly good at helping people realize and meet their potential. It's quite a rush when you get to watch someone do something they didn't think they could do. Empowering someone to meet their potential, encouraging them to accept the challenge, and helping them succeed is a very heady feeling.
Then, one day, you realize people you have helped are ready to move on. They don't need you anymore. Your company recognizes the talent you have nurtured and helped to grow. They see the beauty of the garden, but not the value of the gardener.
This creates an inner emotional battle for me. I am so happy to have been a part of an individual's growth, and ultimately contributed to the success of my company. On the flip side, I am sometimes a bit jealous. I occasionally miss that feeling of accomplishing something others thought was impossible. And every now and then, I really wish my company would recognize the value of the gardener.

Journey

I am ultimately practical, with tiny malignancies of creativity, bewilderment, and wonder that occasionally show themselves as I journey through life. I like this site. I write for a living, but one of the rules in the style of writing for which I am paid is to avoid referring to onesself. In other words, I should avoid writing in first person -- that is, in real life. In Blogworld, I can write whatever I want, I don't have to edit for style or content if I don't feel like it, and it's highly unlikely that other bloggers will offer corrections to my content or musings.

This is my journey. Ride along if you like. All are welcome.