Category Archives: false expectations

And We Got Here How? (Part 1) ~

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When I first began to gather my thoughts for this “ramble” … I was concerned with discourse, or lack of discourse.

As I thought and worked through how I want to try and connect my thoughts – yesterday, THIS report was released by the PEW foundation – which has been polling the polarization of America since 1986.  This report, which I’m going to link to in it’s entirety, shows that we are more polarized than we’ve been since they began tracking.  This does not surprise me in the least. http://pewresearch.org/pubs/2277/republicans-democrats-partisanship-partisan-divide-polarization-social-safety-net-environmental-protection-government-regulation-independents

As I’ve said before – I’m a member of several forums, follow an insane number of blogs and news sites (and the comments) as well as being part of World of Warcraft and Pogo games.

I cut my computer “teeth” – so to speak – in the AOL chat rooms of all kinds – where one had to have an advanced degree in AOLese or AOL speak or you would be five conversations behind everyone else.  (For those who may not know, you had to learn to read through the typos/spellings and strange constructions because people were typing so fast and thinking so quickly that sometimes things didn’t quite match-up.)

All of this introduction is to simply say, I didn’t need the PEW organization to let me know “There’s Trouble In River City”, all I’ve had to do is be around people on-line and even in real life.

What has happened over the years is a steady decline in the ability of people of differing beliefs, hopes, dream, ideas, lives to even civilly approach each other.  At one time, personal opinion, you either were willing to listen to another person or you didn’t interact with that person at all.  Much of time now, I feel it has become a game of seeing who can one-up another in either hate/degradation/intimidation/provoking (not to be confused with trolling – that’s a special sub-set of behavior!!)   or proving how much more someone knows than anyone else.

Just the other day on Facebook, I entered into what I thought was a discussion involving the concept of gay marriage (how’s that for a hot button at the beginning of these postings?) and the difficulty someone had found in talking to someone else about it.  Those of us who are friends with this person and know the overwhelming love in her heart for all people, commiserated with her and offered some light-hearted and yes, even snarky thoughts to help.  Another person had entered the conversation and within two posts it had devolved into 1) necrophilia 2) pedophilia and 3) bestiality.  Even with AOL speak, I couldn’t figure out how we’d gotten there.  It became very obvious that the person simply wanted to anger everyone and bait everyone into an “argument” so that they could present themselves as a 1) winner 2) extremely knowledgeable and at the same time 3) the victim.

So, how did we get here? There were news events from when PEW began tracking the polarization: 1984 The Aids Virus is identified it is not the worldwide problem it is today. Following on from the PC Apple releases the Macintosh computer. Following the Widespread Famine in Ethiopia many of the top British and Irish USSR pop musicians join together under the Name Band Aid and record the song “Do They Know It’s Christmas”. Following the boycott by the US of the Moscow Olympics the soviet block boycotts the Los Angeles Olympic games. Recession continues to be a problem in the US and 70 US Banks fail in just one year.  But I think it goes back to even before that.

Here are three images and comments that will start this series of posts ~ and hopefully, you’ll forgive the length of this one…

At this point in time, we as a people were pushed into the realization that those dedicated to protect us, could indeed seem to turn against us.

Kent State by John Filo

Add to that another realization that perhaps our view of life wasn’t quite so quaint as we wanted to believe.

Birmingham Alabama 1963
I don’t know whose picture this is

 

And lastly – an event that shook our already shaky belief in our government.

So bear with me, and more on this journey of thought over the next few days ….

And The Non-Winner Is …. Early Evening Thoughts.

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My apologies for not posting over the last few days. I really couldn’t bring myself to post something humorous or trying to let you know part of the story when I myself didn’t know how it was going to turn out. I wrote in the last point about my friend playing crash and burn with his body and mind. I think crash and burn won….

After he recovered from last Sunday ~ we had several l-o-n-g talks about what was happening and what he was not only doing to himself, but to those around him. I was trying to be careful not to be judgmental and/ or evangelical. It was becoming an extremely difficult task.

I finally got through with the sentence: “I can care unconditionally – but I don’t have to accept the behaviors unconditionally.” So, he agreed that getting to the counseling center and getting into therapy was the only way to go.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from him wanting to meet for lunch and talk. He was worried about what was going to happen and if he really had the strength to resist his addictions. We talked for a few moments and I hung up to get ready to go down the road and meet him for lunch. He arrived and seemed in good shape – looks and demeanor can be deceiving. I realized that when he took out a bottle of vodka during lunch and helped himself. Once again I’m thinking – “holy Crap now what!” (raging drunks for 1000 Alex.)

At this point I’m also thinking “This is a restaurant I will be unable to go back to….” But my deepest concern is for my friend. He’s at this time beginning to spin out of control. I finally get him convinced to leave the restaurant ~ he wanted to buy a backpack and I thought the walk to the store might help. (foolish thoughts for 500 Alex.) And once again I was left shaking my head in disbelief.

I knew I could get him a ride ~ a friend of both of us was still willing to work with him. Several calls later he agreed to pick us both up – but particularly “Mouthwash”.

He “earned” the nickname from the Crisis Residential Unit we were both in after my stay in the hospital. He actually managed to get alcohol and smuggle it into the unit. He wasn’t selfish evidently ~ more than willing to share with others. Of course, the fact that everyone was on medication that might have a very negative (as in deadly) reaction to it never figured into his conscious. The alcohol? One that needs to be banned from drug store shelves. I’m not going to reveal the name – but the next time you are in a drug store look for a mouthwash that is more than 50 proof. The night at the unit was very interesting. He was turned in to the director and actually never denied the alcohol, merely blamed whoever turned him in as being at fault.

As the counseling center I was hoping to get him into was closed Friday/Saturday and Sunday. He had promised to call on Monday to get the intake appointment, and I agreed that I would go with him. All I could do was hope that he would be able to hold on until then. We finished getting the backpack and a really great pair of sunglasses for me and went outside to wait for our friend to come and take him away.Mouthwash decides that sitting on the sidewalk is the best option. So, now I’m sitting on the sidewalk (getting down there with my knees was a fun undertaking) ~ and he’s sitting there taking alternate hits from a vodka bottle and soda bottle. All I could think was what a great picture we were – and how much we both looked like older homeless men sharing a moment. As we were not sharing the bottle that’s all we would be sharing. He rambled on and on and I kept praying that no one I knew would show up.

That’s when the rest of the story came out. Not only had he been imbibing alcohol this week – but he had been mixing codeine cough syrup and pills (Xantax specifically) ~ a sure-fire meltdown combination. Now I’m worrying about getting arrested simply becvause I’m sitting next to him . . . and I have begun to create a catastrophe out of the situation. I’m not going to share those with you at this point ~ but later they became quite funny.

Finally we had poured him into the car and he was being taken back to the center where he lives to sleep it off …

The sleeping it off hope ended ~ evidently ~ when he passed out in his doorstep and awoke moments later cursing and threatening everyone in sight. . . including the friend that drove him home and was trying to get him into his room. Details are a little sketchy, but from what I found out ~ he checked himself out of the center and headed off to one of the most dangerous areas of town to add crack to the ingredients in his system. Today we learned that he was beaten up and arrested…no one knows for sure, but it sounds pretty likely to me.

Today when I contemplated what had gone on – I realized that my view of things/people/places and events has really changed. I know that there is nothing I can do to help this person directly and that worrying about it is neither productive nor helpful.

What does concern me is what this says about people I am around. There will be more on that soon.

And Yet, It Does Matter (end) ~ Early Morning Thoughts

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Yesterday’s post ended with the idea that the The symbol is NOT the thing symbolized. The map is NOT the territory. The word is NOT the thing. And this is very important as individuals. I am not a label, I am not a word, I am not a symbol. I am me.

Several years ago, I performed in a delightful theatrical adaptaion of Author Robert Fulghum’s All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. In once section (borrowed from one of his other books) he imagined a party where people were exchanging business cards. Each time “he” was handed one, he would look at it, then ask ~ “But, what do you do?” The reactions in the script and from the audience was ~ to say the least ~ delightful. Finally, he had this to say about what he did when he got himself a new business card:

What counts is not what I do, but how I think about myself while I’m doing it. In truth, I have a business card now. Finally figured out what to put on it. One word. ‘Fulghum.’ That’s my occupation. And when I give it away, it leads to fine conversations.

What I do is to be the best Fulghum I can be. Which means being a son, father, husband, friend, singer, dancer, eater, breather, sleeper, runner, walker, artist, writer, painter, teacher, preacher, citizen, poet, counselor, neighbor, dreamer, wisher, laugher, traveler, pilgrim, and on and on. I and you—we are infinite, rich, large, contradictory, living, breathing miracles—free human beings, children of God in the everlasting universe. That’s what we do.

And there it is ~ no labels necessary. No trying to figure out “what” someone is or is not. And that’s what I’m striving for ~ to be me…the best WD I can be.

OK TZ, it took me longer than 100 words (I delighted in the email challenge however!)

But I would like to close this post with a new (to me) quote:

Robert Fulghum in his book Maybe, Maybe Not:

I do not believe that the meaning of life is a puzzle to be solved. Life is. I am. Anything might happen. And I believe I may invest my life with meaning. The uncertainty is a blessing in disguise. If I were absolutely certain about all things, I would spend my life in anxious misery, fearful of losing my way. But since everything and anything are always possible, the miraculous is always nearby and wonders shall never, ever cease. I believe that human freedom may be stated in one term, which serves as a little brick propping open the door of existence: Maybe.

And Yet, It Does Matter (2) ~Early Morning Thoughts

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Yesterday, I vented my “orientation fatigue” about people who feel it’s absolutely essential to label everyone according to orientation ~ straight, gay, bi-sexual, non-sexual, waffle-sexual, buy-sexual and whatever. There were the “ladies” of “The View” trying to determine if Hugh Jackman was gay (suggesting because he had married a less than attractive (!?!) wife he was suspect), there were a number of blogs determining if Enrique Iglesias was gay because he dared perform at the largest gay nightclub in Europe (not for free I can assure you) and sang one of his signature songs to a patron on-stage. My feeling was (and still is) “WHAT DOES IT MATTER?”

A lot.

After I finished quelling the desire to yell and become a hermit, I realized what was really going on was something that I work hard NOT to do. All these instances were simply a desire for labels. Didn’t matter if the label was/is accurate or not, the important thing was/is to get the label. And this is why it does matter ~ regardless of orientation.

ALERT:
THE NEXT SECTION
IS GOING TO BE VERY FRANK ~
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

I was trying to figure out why the labels of today are so important. In thinking about some of the labels over time and I was struck by how many of them were and are used to define the relationship with a supposed “enemy.”

A time tested method of establishing such a relationship is by constantly referring to “the enemy” with some sort of derogatory label. Depending on your age and what you read or were taught (or believe), the labels you know of might be: Nips, Krauts, Slopes, Monkeys, Panheads, Gooks, Commies, or Ragheads. Soldiers aren’t the only people who employ this technique. Hate groups label the enemies of the week as Nigger, Kikes, Jew Bastards, Half-Breed, Witch, etc.

And soldiers and bigots aren’t the only ones to do this. The use of derogatory labels is a widespread technique for legitimizing the mistreatment of others. From grade school to Columbine to the NFL, our culture refers to those who are “not accepted as non-enemies” as Wimps, Freaks, Homos, Faggots, Pussies, Retards, Breeders, Fag Hags, Fag Stags, Sluts, Celebutard, Bitch, C–t, Redneck, etc. Someone, somewhere has, I’m sure, a more complete list if you care to look it up. I’ll leave the list at that – and pardon me while I sanitize my keyboard.

And if you question my use of Columbine, here is the opening paragraphs of an article from The Denver Rocky Mountain News – July 25, 1999:

At Brooke Gibson’s high school, nasty nicknames were the norm. “Nigger lover” was what they called her when she listened to rap. “Dyke” when she cut her blond hair short.

At the school her sister Layn attended, nicknames might poke fun at someone’s shirt color, but never their skin color or sexual orientation.

It was the same school.

Columbine.

I realized that the label(s) make some people comfortable. Much as the old country fellow said: “Yur either fer us or agin us!” And there it is ~ labels define who is “fer” us or “agin” us. If Hugh Jackman marrying a less than attractive woman (according to “The View”) makes him suspect as being gay or Enrique Inglasias performs at a gay night club makes him gay ~ then that helps define the “group” and where they belong. But then, according to S.I. Hayakawa’s Language in Thought and Action:

The symbol is NOT the thing symbolized. The map is NOT the territory. The word is NOT the thing. Most societies systematically encourage … the habitual confusion of symbols with things symbolized. For example, if a Japanese schoolhouse caught fire, it used to be obligatory in the days of emperor-worship to try to rescue the emperor’s picture (there was one in every schoolhouse), even at the risk of one’s life…. The symbols of piety, of civic virtue, or of patriotism are often prized above actual piety, civic virtue, or patriotism.

In one way or another, we are all like the student who cheats on his exams in order to make Phi Beta Kappa; it is so much more important to have the symbol than the things it stands for.

So, (he said with a lot of trepidation) if the word is not the thing ~ why does it carry so much weight and/or power to hurt or destroy?
—more tomorrow

And Yet, It Does Matter ~ Early Morning Thoughts

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I read quite a few blogs ~ actually a LOT of blogs. It’s always interesting to see what people are talking about, what concerns people on the internet … as anyone who reads blogs can tell you ~ sometimes it’s funny, sometimes its somewhat frightening and then there are the days where irritation lands similar to a cartoon anvil.

A number of the blogs were all “a-twitter” over a discussion the ladies (a term I might …no, I won’t go there) of “The View” had whether Hugh Jackman ~ known as Wolverine in the X-Men series ~ might be gay or not. Evidently no definite conclusions were drawn…at least by the time of the commercial break. (please note: Rosie was no longer on the show – and these were women who usually talk over each other doing news topics) No conclusions were reached other than that men who marry women not stunningly attractive, are considered possibly gay. (what a lovely thing to say about Hugh Jackman’s wife!!)

Then – while in London Enrique Iglesias performed ~ neither by surprise nor free ~ at one of the Europe’s largest gay nightclubs. He was doing his usual songs, and came to one of his signature pieces titled “Hero.” At this point, he usually brings a woman up on stage and sings to her. In this case, he called up one of the bar’s male patrons and sang the song. A large number of blogs went beyond “a-twitter” to almost hysteria…(including some that should know better) although any performer will tell you ~ you play to the audience you have. Ask Bette Midler.

To make the day complete probably should have involved a phone call from D&D, but instead I got a call from someone who might be a delightful replacement for them. I was regaled with a complete description of a movie he had just watched and had to listen to an extended description of the people in the movie and their possible orientation. (I have watched movies with this person before ~ this is nothing new)

I’m going to be politically incorrect here ~ but at this point I was, frankly, suffering from “orientation” fatigue. After the 5th time of trying to convince my movie reviewer and performer sexual preference psychic, I gave up and gently but firmly ended the conversation.

I thought about why all this seemed to be going on, and why it mattered at all. I literally wanted to go out in the middle of the complex and yell ~ “WHAT DOES IT MATTER?”

My point is talent is talent is talent. If it’s good it needs NO labels. If it’s good it will cross lines, orientations and even – Lord help us – party affiliations. I don’t spend my time while watching a movie wondering what someone does in their off-time. If the performance is terrible I will 1) regret that I’m there and have been known to 2) count patterns on wall paper or buttons on what someone is wearing to keep my mind and/or body from falling asleep.

As a slight aside, my technical theater instructor in college told about having to design a really, really awful show. He painted grape clusters on the wallpaper of the set ~ only each cluster had a different number of grapes. His rational was that perhaps the audience might make it to intermission before they finished counting the grapes.

After I finished quelling the desire to yell and become a hermit, I realized what was really going on was something that I work hard NOT to do. All these instances were simply a desire for labels. Didn’t matter if the label was/is accurate or not, the important thing was/is to get the label. And this is why it does matter ~ regardless of orientation.

As I’ve written about before, labels are very handy for boxes, shelves and sock drawers, but deadly when applied to people…blonds are dumb(er), geeks wear glasses, people who appear smart or work hard are nerds…to the racial, orientation and intelligence labels designed to either hurt or put people “back where they belong.”
–more tomorrow

–the intro notes to Enrique Inglesias “Hero”
http://www.8notes.com/school/riffs/guitar/enrique_iglesias_hero.asp
–Twilight Zone picture unfortunately had no credits or year
–grape cluster picture
http://www.forchini.com/history.html
–fire picture
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/56877193/

A Small Parable ~ Early Evening Thoughts

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He sat on the bank looking longingly at the water. The sky reflected on the moving surface created a continually changing pattern – sometimes calm, reflective and sometimes dark, foreboding. But always, the water seemed inviting and yet, challenging. He’d been warned that the water was dangerous. That it was deep, full of currents – riptides that would pull him under. However, as he looked he could almost hear music that the ripples and/or waves made as they pushed against the shore.

Then, as sometimes happens – a storm came up. There was tremendous wind, thunder and lighting. It should have been impossible to hear anything above the fury of the storm, but he was positive he could still hear the sound of the water against the shore.

As always, the storm finally faded away – and peace resumed again. The water looked as if it had never changed. The sound of the ripples against the shore line moved him to stand and move toward the edge.

“There’s nothing in there for you.” said a voice behind him. He turned to look. “Nothing in there but deep roiling currents that could take you and smash you against the rocks and crags. Leaving you broken and possibly dead.”

“This kind of water is best left alone.” said another voice. He moved his head to one side to see the speaker. “This kind of water offers nothing …nothing but – well, they say it has poisonous properties that can eat away at the flesh. This kind of water supposedly has sharp microscopic animals that dig in and cause great pain.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Have either of you ever been in the water?” was his not so subtle challenge to the two speakers. He was met with silence. “I thought so,” he finally said to them.

So, he turned back and watched the water under the setting sunlight. The rays of light skittered across the surface and seemed to dance before his eyes. Then he saw it. In the middle of the water was a small boat, and standing in that boat a solitary person. This person seemed to be looking directly at him. (If the truth be told, it was too far to be sure that’s what the person was doing, but to him it seemed as if he was.)

With only a moments hesitation, he took the first step into the water. It was warm, pleasant without sharp creatures. He took another, then another. Finally the walking placed the water at his knees. He continued to move into the center of the water. He now was creating ripples that pushed toward the shore and toward the small boat in the center.

The water was now up to his waist and yet, all was peaceful. With his eye on the target, he moved further and further away from the shore. Suddenly he realized – the fear of what he didn’t know had been keeping him back on shore. The advice of those on the shore could have kept him there and he would never had tried.

He was approaching the small boat and its occupant. The water was no higher than his waist. The depth and fear was nothing more then an illusion. He realized he could handle this. This was manageable and would provide many memories in the days to come.

—wd

But The Luggage Tag Says (3)~ Early Morning Thoughts

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In my last post, I mentioned that at one point I was working for a resident theater company. I had directed several productions while there and they were very successful (even award winning). There was a script that had been around for several years. Each year it would be considered and for various reasons not included in the season. It was a play with a delightful premise and was quite amusing as well. I finally prevailed in committee and the play was added and I was to direct it. As a premier (premiere?) I was sure that there would be no problems with either the script, casting or production. Quoting from the last post:

“I spent a tremendous amount of time with the script – many meetings with designers and such, and would then plunge off into what I expected the production to be like and look like. (are you paying attention to the pronouns and expectations here?) Rehearsals went quite well, and I was quiet pleased with the result. There were a few nagging questions from various people associated with the theater, but I was convinced the final result would answer all doubters. The show had spectacle, humor, tenseness, drama and a happy ending. I had even added a number of abstract moments in the show (something that was only hinted at in the script) and expected that the audience would enjoy and follow along with them.”

I was sure that my expectations were going to be fulfilled the way I intended. There would be amazing reactions from all concerned. There were reactions, to be sure. However, they were not what I intended nor, in some cases, wanted. I ran headlong into the wall of expecting answers according to my expectations. While not a failure, it was not a success either.

I’ve written before about my non-relationship relationship with ZZ. This is probably the most personal of the false expectations trap. Not only did I have false expectations, but I had various people at various times point out that my expectations were false and that I was headed for serious problems. But along with the false expectation I had added yet another luggage tag:

2) Fantasy travel: A very weak color, which leads away from the bright color of reality.

I was so sure that everything was going to turn out as I expected and desired, I literally decorated my luggage of life with various tags – the one of fantasy travel being quite prominent. And for an incredible number of years, I clung tightly to that tag – believing that ZZ would change, that our entire lives would change. And it never happened. But, of course, I had invested to much into the false itinerary, I became overwhelmed by the idea of making it a reality and making the journey fit what I felt it should be. And long the journey, I lost myself. I fell into several major traps because my expectations were not grounded for flight school as they should have been.

My identity is not a by-product of activity.

Even at my … ahem … age, life can be quite full of activity. But none of these defines who I am, and what journey I’m taking. I can be going and doing various tasks all day and sometimes into the evening, but these are simply tasks – things to accomplish. None of these are really who I am.

My identity is not a by-product of relationship.

I learned this painfully with ZZ. And, of course, still have to have an occasional refresher course as my journey continues. That’s why the quote that a fellow blogger Nodrin King left me is so powerful and true. I have to develop who I am. I have to take the journey of finding myself and becoming comfortable with myself. And as the quote puts it at the end – My relationships can be a by-product of how I view my identity and myself.

“Happiness is not something that someone else, like a lover, can give to us. We have to achieve it for ourselves. And the only way to do so is by developing our character and capacity as human beings; by fully maximizing our potential … What is important now is to work hard at developing yourselves into truly wonderful human beings. Ultimately, the relationships you form are a reflection of your own state of life.”

–more on all this later

But The Luggage Tag Says (2)~ Early Morning Thoughts

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Nodrin King (from A Flat With A View) left me a quote that added to what I had been thinking about as far as one of the luggage tags I’ve been dealing with …”Happiness is not something that someone else, like a lover, can give to us. We have to achieve it for ourselves. And the only way to do so is by developing our character and capacity as human beings; by fully maximizing our potential … What is important now is to work hard at developing yourselves into truly wonderful human beings. Ultimately, the relationships you form are a reflection of your own state of life.”…. The last sentence is so true. And he’s figured out part of where I’m heading with some of these postings.

I had been thinking about the false luggage tag of expecting every answer to be according to my expectations.

To start this, I want to take a story from the Old Testament. Regardless of personal belief, there are some stories that are universal. It’s about a royal with a big head. His name is Naaman. Now, he was quite an important person – he was a warrior, a highly regarded leader, and his life could be considered a success. There was just one “little” problem to make his happiness complete. He suffered from leprosy. No matter how great a warrior or leader he was, his life was headed toward the leper colony – a total outcast. Now, amidst his spoils of war was a young girl that offered a solution. There were prophets in Israel who could and would cure Naaman. Of course, Naaman immediately petitioned the King of Syria to take the “cure” in Israel.

The King of Syria was more than happy to oblige and sent a letter to the King of Israel (along with a small payment for services rendered). Of course, the King of Israel (KOI) was more than glad to receive the money for the treasury, but making sure that a major player of Syria returned home healed of leprosy – that was asking the impossible. So much so, that the KOI began tearing his clothes, and wailing at the top of his lungs (That usually happens when the right message has been giving to the wrong person, but that’s another story altogether).

By this time, the entire household was in full hysteria mode – after all, failure to cure Naaman meant failure to continue in the lifestyle they had become accustomed to … or perhaps even failure to continue living. The wild cries of “OMG, what will we do now” finally reached the ears of Elisha. He sent a message to the KOI suggesting that he stop with the clothes tearing and yelling at the top of his lungs, and send Mr. Naaman his direction. Relieved to have someone else that would answer for failure – Naaman’s major parade was sent Elisha’s direction. Of course, being the important personage he was, Naaman fully expected a major show for his benefit. No such show happened. He didn’t even get to meet the prophet personally. The gate was opened by a servant who merely informed the exalted Naaman that he was to dip himself in the Jordan seven times. And with that – the servant closed the door. And life inside went on as usual.

Outside the gate, things were anything but usual. Naaman proceeded to have a major fit. I’m sure there were incredible threats hurled at everyone – including the King of Israel. After all, he had just been humiliated by this … this – at that point, he probably ran out of words – or at least words that were recorded. He was leaving and leaving NOW! Why was he going to leave without being healed? Because he had a false expectation of what was going to happen. He expected a grand show … perhaps even television specials to follow. He was expecting a major event. He wanted it how he wanted it!! Instead (although not exactly the purpose of this post – but worthwhile anyway) he was handed the total prosaic problem of obedience.

Finally a small one of Naaman’s group that was trooping around with him , managed to get his attention and told him that if he’d been asked to do something weird, amazing or even appear on a reality television show, he would have done it right? Naaman appears to have simply stood there with his elegant and important mouth open. The little one continued by basically telling Naaman 1) he needed to drop the grand expectation and 2) he really didn’t have anything to lose – and a healing to gain by doing something completely simple.

In other words, he had to leave the false expectation of what he thought would happen and go with what could happen.

An old saying (which I used to hate): The definition of insanity is repeating exactly the same actions over and over and expecting different results.

On a more personal note, I had the opportunity to direct a premier of a play for the theater company I was working for. It was a delightful script – although not without its problems, but nothing (I believed) I couldn’t handle. I had had several very solid (and award winning) successes with this company, and was convinced I could “do it.” I spent a tremendous amount of time with the script – many meetings with designers and such, and would then plunge off into what I expected the production to be like and look like. (are you paying attention to the pronouns and expectations here?) Rehearsals went quite well, and I was quiet pleased with the result. There were a few nagging questions from various people associated with the theater, but I was convinced the final result would answer all doubters. The show had spectacle, humor, tenseness, drama and a happy ending. I had even added a number of abstract moments in the show (something that was only hinted at in the script) and expected that the audience would enjoy and follow along with them.

As Paul Harvey might say: The rest of this story tomorrow.

–fractal painting of simplicity:
http://www.cowlix.com/site/digitalart/evolvingsimplicity
–center of universe art
http://desta.jp/desta/img/centeroftheuniverseprev.jpg

But The Luggage Tag Says ~ Early Morning Thoughts

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When I started thinking about excess baggage cluttering up life, I realized that 1) there is a difference between baggage and luggage, and that 2) I want to keep the luggage and get rid of the baggage. Luggage is what makes us – well – us. Personally, it’s what is at the core of my being. The centrality of who I am. Sometimes it may get a little clouded or even dented – but it’s still there. and just like those beautiful expensive pieces of luggage – I want to keep it around me. Baggage, on the other had, is all the “stuff” that we drag around causing excess weight, heartache and other problems. Excess baggage can get in the way of living, loving and just being around other people.

The other night I mentioned an actress/teacher that I personally know. She spends quite a bit of time traveling speaking to conferences and meetings. However, for quite awhile when she first started traveling, it was joked that her luggage was going to more exotic places then she was. When she would arrive at her correct destination – the luggage would be off on a vacation of its own, sometimes not to return for quite some time. Finally, it was discovered that she had not been removing the old luggage tags when she started a new trip. There were pieces from various trips still attached to the suitcases much as barnacles attach to a ship. And therein was part of the problem. Those incomplete tags were sometimes seen as the correct tag – and off the luggage would go to an entirely different destination.

I’ve discovered that if I want my luggage (not my baggage) to be with me, I’ve got to deal with the tags and make sure that we (my luggage and I) are going on this journey of life together. And there are several “old” baggage/luggage tags I’m going to have to get rid of. (And I must make sure that baggage isn’t trying to pass itself off as luggage either.)

1) the old baggage/luggage tags of false expectations (that lovely rosy colored tag with just a hint of brightness that can lead to real chaos)

It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top.
–Hunter Thompson

Disappointments often stem from unrealistic expectations. Take Christmas for example. When I was growing up a Christmas list was always expected. I would carefully write out what I wanted and then would dream for days about what I just KNEW I was going to get. Alas, the reality never seemed to match the list. Now, adults might not have a Christmas list as such, but how many have the assumption that everyone can, should and will enjoy a wonderful holiday season and gifts and good behaviors will abound.

When I traveled to India, I was not going there to teach I was in a sense running away. (I’ll write more on that another time). I traveled to New York, and then took Pan Am 002 (Pan Am 001 went west) and flew to India…a place I had never been. My expectations were very high. I knew all about India – from Rudyard Kipling, of course. I knew that the New Delhi airport was going to continually hacked out of the jungle by natives with the help of elephants, everything was going to be made from rosewood and the air would be pungent with saffron, sandalwood and laced with the scent of roses. (to say nothing of all the Rikki-Tikki-Tavi’s that would be there being sweet and friendly) Now there was a set of serious false expectations. 1) We landed in what I thought was a desert, 2) the buildings looked as if they were about to fall down or crumble at any time and 3) there was definitely a pungent smell at the airport – nothing like the smell of jet fuel and burning oil at four o’clock in the morning after a 30+ hour flight.

Sometimes relationships fare no better. Somehow believing that no matter what: everything was going to be made from rosewood and the air would be pungent with saffron, sandalwood and laced with the scent of roses. And when I discover that the rose has thorns, or that the air is NOT laced with roses but other scents …

So now begins the process (ongoing process that is) of looking at what is a false expectation and what I’m going to do about it. Give up on expectations? Never in this lifetime. I know people who have basically no expectations – and you know what? They are never disappointed, but they don’t have much enjoyment out of life and living either.

Some people have adopted the part of the song (I believe it was by the Rolling Stones) that says: “You can’t always get what you want”. I like to remind people that the next lines “But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
–more to come

–final picture by dilekt
www.deviantart.com