Expectations are heavy to carry around with you.........

 

This is Tessie, a female version of Teddy. (A cartoon figure I invented some time ago and who appears on this blog every now and then)

Tessie is carrying big bags full of expectations. (Expectations can be heavy although we may at times not be aware of carrying big bags full of them.)

What are expectations? Here are some suggestions: suppositions, assumptions, conjectures, calculations, projections, beliefs, etc.. Made short: a strong belief that something is going to happen,  may happen, or should/ought to happen.

So, how does one identify expectations, and how are expectations different from just wanting something to happen/be a certain way?

Personally, I feel that with expectations there is a "sting in the tail" so to speak; failing to meet/live up to others or our own expectations can be perilous and may potentially involve some form of punitive outcomes. Examples: I want to win the race - I expect to win the race (If I don't, I have failed), I want to do my best - I expect to do my best (If I don't, I have failed), I want to loose weight - I expect to loose weight (If I don't, I have failed) , I want to please my folks/teachers/friends/partner - I expect of myself to please my folks/teachers/friends/partner (If I don't, I have failed) and so on. Or, I want you to love me (because I love you) - I expect of you to love me (because I love you, you have to love me), I want you to respect me (your respect means a lot to me) - I expect of you to respect me (people should respect each other).

So, where do our expectations come from? Here are some suggestions: a) from our nurturing environment; parents, grandparents, siblings, relatives, care givers, etc. people who are our immediate role models as we grow  b) the society in which we are members: friends, schools, neighbourhood's, clubs, work places, media of varying kinds c) personal experiences and our interpretations of them.

These interpretations commonly become the foundation of our belief systems, that is; our beliefs about what we deem wrong and right, true and false. I often find that the word "should" (or versions thereof) seems to pop up when a belief system is involved: people should, they should, you should, I should, or, people shouldn't, they shouldn't, you shouldn't, I shouldn't. (The use of should or shouldn't can cause all sorts of problems considering how many different belief systems there are.)

Expectations often feel so true and so right, that we often do not question their validity, or where they came from in the first place. "What do you mean, you don't want to follow in your father's footsteps? Son's in this family have always followed in their father's footsteps, and that's what you should do too." "What? You don't want any kids? Women in this family always raise large families, and so should you." "Now, son, I expect you to make the team, or "Lucy, I expect you to get an A on that test", or "I expected the best from you", of course it goes the other way as well: "Wow, I never expected you to ace that test, get that job, get elected, win that comp, loose so much weight, get that girl, get that guy", etc..
Often we have expectations of ourselves that keeps pushing us to such an extent that we become stressed in the process of trying to meet our expectations. "I should have done it faster, better, bigger, smaller, sooner, later, I should be slimmer, I should be taller, I should be more talkative, I should be more sociable etc." or "I shouldn't eat so much, smoke so much, drink so much, talk so much, work so much", etc.... (insert here what you think you should or shouldn't do)......

Expectations, in my view, are not helpful, what I do find helpful on the other hand is to ask myself questions such as: "What are my expectations? How realistic are they? Are they my expectations or are they expectations I think I should have? Are my expectations inline with others belief systems?"

When we cling to our expectations of others and of our selves, we form attachments to specific outcomes, and if the outcomes are different to those we envisaged, we often feel disappointed.

If we, on the other hand, let go of the expectation that others should think and feel the way we do (most of us tend to have this expectation), view things the way we do, or agree with our opinions, then others differing opinions, and expectations, rather than disappointing us, may offer us an opportunity to broaden our spectrum of understanding. 

If we give ourselves the time to reflect on what our expectations are and how we came to hold them, then we may be able to discard those that rather than serve us, disturb us.

 

"When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are."
 (Donald Miller)

 

"When you stop expecting yourself to be perfect, you can like yourself for who you are." (Citizen Z)

 

 

Regardless of culture, stature or creed, children are children and they all bleed.....

 

 

In a bed, in a makeshift hospital,

a little girl, barely four years old,

silently endures while a bandage is being applied,

she doesn't complain, she takes it in her stride.

 

She is but one of many children,

caught in a conflict entirely bewildering.

A little girl, barely four years old,

knows nothing of the grown-ups world.

 

But she knows she must run,

at the sound of a gun,

she knows she must hide,

when the tanks roll on by.

 

She knows endless hunger,

and nights without slumber,

and at the ripe age of four,

.... she can cry no more.

 

Regardless of culture, stature or creed,

children are children, and all of them bleed,

when a bullet, a bomb, or a UID,

hits the target, does its deed.

 

This insanity, it really must cease,

we must try harder to work for peace.

To find words rather than weapons of war,

to settle our differences, to settle our scores. (Citizen Z)

"Creating a world that is truly fit for children does not imply simply the absence of war. It means having the confidence that our children would not die of measles or malaria. It means having access to clean water and proper sanitation. It means having primary schools nearby that educate children, free of charge. It means changing the world with children, ensuring their right to participate, and that their views are heard and considered. It means building a world fit for children, where every child can grow to adulthood in health, peace and dignity." (Carol Bellamy) 

Do you look people in the eyes when you are speaking with them or are you a "scanner"?

When you speak with people, do you look them in the eyes?

I don't know if this is a "real" term, but it's a term I use: "scanners"

What is a scanner? Someone who barely keeps eye contact with you while you are speaking with them. (In some countries it may be construed as rude and disrespectful to look someone in the eyes while speaking, but for the purpose of this post, I am writing from a Western Cultural point of view, that is; to not look someone in the eyes while speaking is commonly considered rude and disrespectful. Sometimes it may even be viewed as a sign of dishonesty, that the person is hiding something, and that something shifty is going on.)

Some of us may be quite shy and find it some what confrontational to hold eye contact, but when I speak of scanners, I do not refer to shy people, rather, I refer to people who keep looking over your shoulder, looking at their phones, looking at other people, basically looking at anything that moves when you are speaking with them.

Now, some people do this quite discretely/covertly and because they are genuinely curious, but a scanner, does it very overtly.

Example: You meet up with a friend for a catch up. You are excited about sharing what is new with you and to hear what is new with your friend. While you are speaking, your friend's attention darts from checking the phone, to sending text messages, to looking at the people around you, to "scanning" people coming and going, constantly making comments about what he/she sees. Your eyes barely meet and you have no idea if your friend has heard anything you have said. In a situation like this, many of us would probably begin to think that we are uninteresting, talk too much, or thoughts of that nature.

Why is eye contact important? Having eye contact we show the person we are speaking with that we are interested in what they have to say; they have our attention. (Sometimes a connecting look between eyes can offer a wordless expression of sympathy, compassion, understanding, sincerity, and appreciation.)

Many emotions can be communicated with our eyes; surprise, fear, anger, joy, anxiety, love, happiness, etc.. As they say: "The eyes are a window to our soul."

 Eye contact, in my view, is important because it says: I see you.

A few years ago I had a very talented music student, but I was never sure of exactly how much of what I was trying to teach him actually was received by him. At first I couldn't pinpoint why I felt that way until I realised that he was a "scanner". While I was trying to explain and show him different techniques and methods, his eyes never connected with mine. His eyes were darting here, there, and everywhere, and only at the briefest of moments, did our eyes connect. Finally I brought this up with him. He took what I said on-board (thankfully) and stopped scanning, and after that conversation our music lessons became much more constructive for both of us.

Jim Elliot has this to say: "Wherever you are, be all there." My personal opinion is that when we engage in eye contact we are saying:  "I am here, you have my attention".

If you are a person who find eye contact difficult, perhaps it may be helpful to find out why that is?

If you are a person who find it hard to focus all your attention on the person you are speaking with, and more often than not find yourself scanning, perhaps it may be helpful to find out why?

 

"What we learn only through the ears makes less impression upon our minds than what is presented to the trustworthy eye." (Horace (BC 65-8) Latin lyric poet.)

 

(ps. about the painting: it is photo shopped, the original is in colour. I like to experiment. :)

The smell of paper....and the Death of a Remington.....

Adam missed the bus. Again. For the fifth time.

The next bus wouldn't come for another hour. Adam let out a heavy sigh, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and sat down on the bus stop bench. It was cold and the wind was biting.

As his eyes gazed across the street, the tungsten lights in a small second hand bookshop looked inviting.

"Bet it's nice and cosy in there", he thought to himself. He decided to wait out his time in the bookshop. The shop was narrow, but deep, and there were books stacked from the floor to the ceiling.

Not that he was a big reader, but it seemed as if they had a good collection of DC Comics and graphic novels, so he was sure that he could easily waste an hour in the shop. A well worn sofa snuggly fitted in between two large book cases offered a quiet hide-away for Adam to browse a pile of magazines that he had grabbed from the Comics section of the bookstore. Usually he would use his tablet when he wanted to read something, but since he was in a bookstore, he thought it more inconspicuous if he

read something that actually belonged to the shop. He was fully engrossed in reading  "The Swamp Thing" when somebody gently asked: "Excuse me, but can I be of assistance?"

Startled, Adam jumped up from the sofa. "Uh, sorry, is it okay if I sit here and read? I just missed the bus and it's real cold out there," Adam offered. In front of him stood a girl, probably not much older than himself, dressed in black from top to toe. She had some funny looking pigtails all over her head, a really short skirt, and the most infectious smile he had ever seen. "Ofcourse it's okay, that's why we put the sofa there, silly," the girl answered. "So, you're into DC Comics then?" the girl continued. Adam ummed and arred but finally managed to come out with an answer: "Yeah, I am, I usually use my tablet, but I thought since I am in a bookstore, why not check out the real thing?"

The girl smiled. "Good idea," she said then continued: "I love the smell of paper, the feel of the paper, and somehow I feel more involved, closer, to what I am reading when I am actually holding the book, or magazine in my hand, don't you?" Adam had never thought of it that way, for him words and images on paper or on a screen were much the same, but before he could answer, the girl had walked away. Adam sat down on the sofa again, but he couldn't stop thinking about what the girl had said.

His eyes started to wander up and down the bookcases, looking at the many coloured spines of different sizes. His eyes stopped at a bright orange and white book with Siddartha written on the spine. "Siddartha? What on earth did that mean?" he wondered. He decided to investigate.

Adam pulled the book off the shelf. It had a very minimalistic cover, just the title, the author's name, Herman Hesse, and a cartoon-like penguin. Remembering what the girl had said to him about the feel and smell of paper, he opened the book, ran his fingertips across the pages and stuck his nose

into the middle of it. "She was right," he thought, "it does have a nice smell". While holding up the book and smelling it, suddenly a piece of paper fell to the floor. Adam picked it up.

Folded twice and marked with what seemed like coffee stains, the piece of paper was yellow and frayed at the edges. Adam concluded that it must be old. Intrigued, he decided to read it.

"Dear Vinny, thank you for sending me the Remington typewriter. Words can not express how thankful I am for this marvellous machine. The pain in my fingers has made it almost impossible for me to use a pen these days, and as you know, I love writing. How great it is to be able to formulate words and then see them appearing ever so legible! The last few years my hand writing has become so appalling that even I can't read it, so this machine has become a godsend.

Thanks to you, I am now able to finish writing my book, which I know will make my publisher very happy. Hope you enjoy Siddartha, I certainly did. All my love to the family, Jeremy."

Adam felt like he had stepped back in time. He tried to imagine what it would be like to handwrite everything, to not have spellchecker and instant access to a Thesaurus at the click of a mouse.

Gently he folded the paper and put it back into the book. Still holding the book in his hand, the girl suddenly appeared again. "Siddartha? I thought you were into DC Comics?" the girl asked.

"Did you know that there's a letter in this book, like, an old letter?" Adam asked the girl.

"Yeah, it's been there as long as I can remember. Awesome, isn't it? If people want to buy the book, we sell the book, keep the letter, replace the book and put the letter into another one. Lot's of people have read the letter, and bought the book," answered the girl.

"Have you read the book and the letter?" Adam asked.

"Oh, yes, I have, it was after I read the letter that I started to smell books and feel the paper," the girl answered and smiled. "Why?" Adam asked. "I don't know exactly, but, I think I realised how much closer I felt to print on paper than words on an interface. I mean, it's not just about reading words, how can I put it, somehow reading words in an actual book, makes me feel closer, more involved with what I am reading. I guess, perhaps its like listening or viewing a music concert on the Telly, verses being at the live event? A book feels like you're inviting the author into your space, like it's tangible in a different way to reading something on a screen... Anyway, one does not necessarily have to exclude the other, I like both, but books smell nicer," the girl answered while straightening out some books on a shelf next to the sofa. 

"What are you going to do, are you going to buy Siddartha?" asked the girl.

Adam put his hand in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, opened it, and found a ten dollar bill.

"How much is it?" he asked and handed the girl the book.

"Seven dollars, but you don't get the letter, okay?" the girl winked at Adam.

Speaking about money made Adam remember the bus and that he needed four dollars for the ride home. "Sorry, but I only have six dollars to spend, can you make it six?" Adam asked. "You drive a hard bargain, but okay then, six dollars it is," said the girl and with book in hand walked up to the cash register.

Adam handed the money to the girl, glanced quickly at his watch, and realised that if he didn't hurry, he was going to miss the bus. Again. With the book in his hand, he ran to the bus stop.

He just made it, found himself a seat and sat down. As the bus pulled out, he put down his backpack on the floor and opened the book, closed his eyes, and inhaled the smell of the paper.

"She's right, there's something special about the smell of paper," he thought to himself, then turned to page one. 

 (Citizen Z)

 

(the painting in this story is called: The death of a Remington)

"An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind"........

 

Flicking through a book of photographs taken during the WWII, I came across a small black and white photo of this young Russian soldier. I was so captivated by it that I felt the need to try to capture it by doing my own impression of the photo, using paints.

 

What does defeat look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does despair look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does pain look like?

 It looks like this.

 

What does loss of innocence look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does hunger look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does hopelessness look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does helplessness look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does seeing too much to endure look like?

It looks like this.

 

What does the ravages of war look like?

It looks like this.

 

 

"In war, truth is the first casualty." (Aeschylus)

In truth, war always means casualties.

 

"Mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind." (John F. Kennedy)