Amid the sprawling pavement of the corporate parking lot there's a random plot of green walking path. It makes for a graceful diversion for those who like to shake up the daily walk to the car by meandering through fifty yards of chest-high shrubbery.
The walkway has enough small twists that it's easy to stumble upon a person sitting at one of the benches lining the way. Or in my case the other day, someone pacing back and forth as if in a stupor.
When you happen upon a woman walking in circles, gesturing with her hands and muttering to herself with her head down you're usually between two tenements. Of course, those folks typically aren't smartly dressed in a pantsuit, heels and salon-fresh hairdo.
We were strangers passing in a narrow corridor, and I made sure not to gaze as I walked by. Because I've been there.
Clearly she was rehearsing for a presentation. She looked like she'd been in the working world a few years or less. It took me back to my earliest speeches, back in college. I'd run meetings holding a note card in my hand, written nearly word-for-word what I'd say. Butterflies flapping, identity tightly pinned to this single performance.
Life experience makes such a difference. The frantic pursuit of perfection eases. Doing our best, and trusting the rest, blossoms gradually. Character becomes more important than reputation.
That's what she has to look forward to. To a great degree, so do I, even still. Meanwhile, the kindest thing to do is to let her revel in her zone, inching toward success.
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