(What follows is a blog I wrote in July of 2014 and never posted. I have forgotten the specifics that motivated my expression, but was strangely comforted by my own words as I re-discovered them yesterday while looking for art materials to create something new. I probably chose not to post for fear I would offend or draw the wrong kind of attention. But the small measure of comfort these words have brought me, as I continue to live the life I've been given, is significant--and maybe just to me, but nonetheless, here I am contemplating again, in all my glory. Thank you for reading.)
Expectation is the root of all heartache, according to a quote attributed to William Shakespeare. Whether or not I expect something to happen is not the problem; it is in the length of time it takes me to regain my emotional composure, that my heart finds the time to ache.
I have been told ever since I can remember that I should "not let my imagination get the better of me," "not make too big of a deal out of it," and "let go of such high expectations." All I have ever heard is: stop being yourself. If I did not have such an over-active imagination, maybe it would not get the better of me. Perhaps longing for more than something common or boring has been what has motivated me. Why I am never to hope for something grand has confused me.
What adds to that confusion is how little I actually hope for. I remember making a list many years ago for what I wanted in a house, back when I was a renter and not an owner. Among the items on the list were "windows that open; doors that shut" which caught the attention of a well-meaning friend who could not believe my standards were so low. They are not low, I insisted. Up until that point I had lived in rental properties in which windows were painted shut or did not have screens, and doors were either non-existent or the wrong size. When one starts at the bottom, any expectation seems reasonable.
So I check myself to measure my expectations according to what is supposedly a "normal standard" and I end up expecting to eat, without the expectation that the food will satisfy me; expecting to find shelter, without the expectation that I will ever really feel secure; and expecting to have my basic needs met though it seems to be constantly up for discussion what my "needs" truly are. The tangible never outweigh the intangible, in my book, thus heartache is inevitable.
I guess I want what people cannot give me: time to process my thoughts with interaction and without judgment; promises that we will keep trying to sort things out, even if we never fully agree with each other; a commitment to communicate when misunderstanding is imminent; an I've-got-your-back attitude that will keep me from constantly wondering if this is the case. Or, better yet, a response to my emails! But life doesn't work this way. We take each other for granted and place our own needs before the needs of another. We say we agree to work together for common goals, but what this means is we will work together as long as our own goals are met in the process.
It does not take a detective to figure out where someone is when that person posts his or her life events on social media. It is difficult to believe that someone is too ill to meet an obligation when the person posts pictures of the great outdoors, while thought to be home in bed. A last minute trip to the beach, complete with a tantalizing plate of food photo, describes one's priorities more than that person may realize. I wonder how many of those cheering the person on, by liking the post, will understand what statement is being made by the person being there, and not where many will expect.
We tell our children not to lead mediocre lives--to strive for greatness. But then if they do, are we to tell them not to expect too much? How does this equation always backfire? Hope for the best, but do not fully invest yourself or you will be seen as neurotic. Give it your all, but do not expect others to do the same. We are all in this together, at least until social media tells a different story. So are we to expect anything or not?
I would like to think that having expectations is a human experience, common to us all, but whenever I take the time to contemplate it, I end up feeling very alone. I get stuck in the grief I feel when my heart is again shattered by those whose actions flippantly remind me that I again expected too much. I feel utterly lost when I try to figuratively and sometimes even literally hold the hands of those who have already moved beyond what I was hoping we would accomplish. I am left with unmet expectations, unrealized goals, and something that used to resemble hope, wondering how I ended up here. Again.
(Postscript: Though I have tried to avoid finding myself in the midst of painful circumstances, they have a way of finding me, perhaps not intending to harm but to teach. My questions may remain the same; the answers, however, can transform and heal if I will let them.)
Expectation is the root of all heartache, according to a quote attributed to William Shakespeare. Whether or not I expect something to happen is not the problem; it is in the length of time it takes me to regain my emotional composure, that my heart finds the time to ache.
I have been told ever since I can remember that I should "not let my imagination get the better of me," "not make too big of a deal out of it," and "let go of such high expectations." All I have ever heard is: stop being yourself. If I did not have such an over-active imagination, maybe it would not get the better of me. Perhaps longing for more than something common or boring has been what has motivated me. Why I am never to hope for something grand has confused me.
What adds to that confusion is how little I actually hope for. I remember making a list many years ago for what I wanted in a house, back when I was a renter and not an owner. Among the items on the list were "windows that open; doors that shut" which caught the attention of a well-meaning friend who could not believe my standards were so low. They are not low, I insisted. Up until that point I had lived in rental properties in which windows were painted shut or did not have screens, and doors were either non-existent or the wrong size. When one starts at the bottom, any expectation seems reasonable.
So I check myself to measure my expectations according to what is supposedly a "normal standard" and I end up expecting to eat, without the expectation that the food will satisfy me; expecting to find shelter, without the expectation that I will ever really feel secure; and expecting to have my basic needs met though it seems to be constantly up for discussion what my "needs" truly are. The tangible never outweigh the intangible, in my book, thus heartache is inevitable.
I guess I want what people cannot give me: time to process my thoughts with interaction and without judgment; promises that we will keep trying to sort things out, even if we never fully agree with each other; a commitment to communicate when misunderstanding is imminent; an I've-got-your-back attitude that will keep me from constantly wondering if this is the case. Or, better yet, a response to my emails! But life doesn't work this way. We take each other for granted and place our own needs before the needs of another. We say we agree to work together for common goals, but what this means is we will work together as long as our own goals are met in the process.
It does not take a detective to figure out where someone is when that person posts his or her life events on social media. It is difficult to believe that someone is too ill to meet an obligation when the person posts pictures of the great outdoors, while thought to be home in bed. A last minute trip to the beach, complete with a tantalizing plate of food photo, describes one's priorities more than that person may realize. I wonder how many of those cheering the person on, by liking the post, will understand what statement is being made by the person being there, and not where many will expect.
We tell our children not to lead mediocre lives--to strive for greatness. But then if they do, are we to tell them not to expect too much? How does this equation always backfire? Hope for the best, but do not fully invest yourself or you will be seen as neurotic. Give it your all, but do not expect others to do the same. We are all in this together, at least until social media tells a different story. So are we to expect anything or not?
I would like to think that having expectations is a human experience, common to us all, but whenever I take the time to contemplate it, I end up feeling very alone. I get stuck in the grief I feel when my heart is again shattered by those whose actions flippantly remind me that I again expected too much. I feel utterly lost when I try to figuratively and sometimes even literally hold the hands of those who have already moved beyond what I was hoping we would accomplish. I am left with unmet expectations, unrealized goals, and something that used to resemble hope, wondering how I ended up here. Again.
(Postscript: Though I have tried to avoid finding myself in the midst of painful circumstances, they have a way of finding me, perhaps not intending to harm but to teach. My questions may remain the same; the answers, however, can transform and heal if I will let them.)
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