The discontent of my expectations – I do it without realizing it. Expect things. From myself. From others. Usually they are unfair or unrealistic. It makes me wonder where it all starts – these troublemakers, the expectations.
Was I born with them? Are they are part of my genetic make-up? Part and parcel of being a woman? Or do they not discriminate based on gender? And really, what is their purpose? Reassurance, a mere desire to know the future, to keep me or others in line? No, none of that sounds right, rings true.
I’m sure a head doctor would have a field day with this whole concept – we are preconditioned by society, politicians, the ozone, blah, blah, to set up expectations so that we can prove to ourselves that life means nothing. Or some such. I don’t think that’s true either.
Perhaps it is just one of the many elements of life that works its way into our daily cinema. We can after all, expect that the sun will rise in the morning and set in the evening. That dogs will bark at mailmen. That babies will cry and coo. That if you plant a seed and water it, something will grow. That time passes whether we want it to or not. So then if we can expect these things, why not others?
I think we get into trouble when it comes to other people and ourselves. The human animal, ever a mystery will never respond in the way that you want it to or believe it should. Or more precisely it is the spirit housed in that bag of bones, skin, sinew, flesh and fluids. No matter what anyone thinks or says I do not believe you can own a spirit – of another or yourself. Like a magical mixed up chemistry project, the spirit is both benign and volatile and there is no way to predict which it will be and when it will be. Yet, crazy, unrealistic and ever hopeful spirit that I am, I persist. I think if I can only get the right view of it all, it will make sense and I will understand. I cannot help it, this is the permanent quest of my life – to understand. Myself and others.
And just when I think I may have a bead on it, a sense of something, those assinine expectations sneak in – laying a false foundation and I crash through the floors to the basement or find myself up the fucking chimney. Leaving me to vow never to expect anything ever again. If I could keep that promise, life might be simpler.