Wednesday Wonderings, “The Measure We Meet.”

We judge people every day. It’s unavoidable, it’s often unconscious, and in many instances, it’s necessary. But so much rides on accurate judgment that doing it righteously is critical, (pardon the pun.)
After 50 years of gradually learning or trying to learn this skill, I think back on some symbolic mishaps. When we first moved to Colorado from the high desert of Southern California, we moved into a much bigger home on a much bigger lot. It was the end of winter in California and bulbs were about to bloom and the roses were budding out. But after a month of waiting for spring at our new home, (a mere 4500 feet higher in elevation), I finally decided that I couldn’t wait. I decided to add a strip of mixed wild flowers along the 75 foot driveway. Though much of our acre was shaded by pines, the driveway edged a nice little meadow area, perfect for wildflowers.
It took me three days of digging with a pick and rake, adding peat and manure, loosening the soil and waking every muscle in my back, shoulders and arms to pain before it was ready for seeds. I waited for a windless hour and sprinkled in the canister of wild-flower seeds. I watered by hand, and in about a month, my little area was covered with sweet little seedlings. The rest of the meadow also turned green.
After another month of careful nurture and much water, my new plants began to consider blooming, mostly single flowers on their spindly little stems. They were promising a fair display. . .eventually. But the rest of my meadow, the part I had left undisturbed and judged to be full of weeds was covered in wildflowers. Native wildflowers. I had wild geraniums, tall blue columbine, beardtongue, bear berry, mallow, sego lilies and alpine strawberries. They flourished as they had been doing for hundreds of years, right up to line where I had attempted to provide my idea of the ideal.
A year later, we had undertaken to build a new house on 5 acres and moved into a rental after the first house sold. Near the back door there was a fountain of bare sticks. They looked dead. When you broke one off, it showed no green at all, so I decided that the rental was a little neglected and undertook to cut down the sticks. I got about half way through and decided I didn’t know what I was doing and I ought to leave it alone. Spring came very late at that elevation. So I waited another month and those naked, dry sticks clothed themselves in brilliant yellow forsythia blooms. Who knew?
I’ve gradually learned to be more cautious in unfamiliar gardens, but sometimes I am even more surprised by how well I misjudge people. I’m capable of doing this either by giving them too much credit or too little. I’ve learned that the funniest looking people often have the most brilliant minds. The most ordinary looking folks have boundless imaginations. The quietest, beigest folks often have the most generous hearts.
Sometimes I find that those with the most outwardly pleasing personalities have the weakest characters. Rich people can be generous and poor people can be stingy. Able bodied folks can be lazy and handicapped folks can be diligent.
So, after 51 years of observing those around me I have come to the conclusion that my first judgments are not more accurate as time goes on. I have only learned that the more slowly a judgment is made, the more accurate it is likely to be.
My question for this first Wednesday Wondering is: What stereotypes do you tend to judge instinctually, or when have you seriously misjudged a person? (Published comments show at the bottom of the page, not immediately after this posting. I do moderate all comments before publishing and won’t post anything hurtful.)