On Expectations

Expectations. They can be motivating high-jump bars, poles to estrange a relationship, or bats that we beat ourselves up with.

They can motivate the person you expect things from to achieve more. It can be equivalent to believing in them, seeing their potential, and not letting them get away with things.



Expectations can also be harmful. When you expect unrealistic things of people, you set them up to fail. When you don't share your expectations with someone, but expect him or her to do it anyway, you are lighting the torch that will set your relationship aflame.

Your own unrealized expectations can contribute to feelings of worthlessness.

Expectations (ones you know and lurking ones you didn't know you had) can make you feel disappointment.

I think the expectations we don't realize we have are the sneakiest and hardest to combat. All throughout high school I expected myself to ace every test, nail every exam. There was anxiety and sleepless nights before the test, tenseness during the test, sometimes dread waiting for the grade, and either disappointment in myself or a sigh of relief when they were graded and handed back. In that way, expectation plagued me—I didn't usually celebrate my grades, but I feared not making them.

The Expectation Monster bit the hardest when I crossed the stage at the senior award ceremony. I had received several awards—including the science award—but as I sat there I tasted bitter disappointment. I had gotten exactly what I hoped for (the expectations I knew about)—these awards evidenced that. But I still felt disappointment. I expected it to feel more victorious, more exciting. But the papers clutched in my hand didn't really mean that much to me, in the long run, and I wondered what it was that I had really wanted all those years...

I crossed the stage, 4th person in my high school because of my GPA. I thought back over the last four years. Was it worth it? I wasn't sure. And I still felt that this was somehow empty, that I had sacrificed too much along the way to my expectations, only to feel that my expectations of the returns of those sacrifices weren't what I had hoped.

Thinking back on that now helps me feel motivated to search out the expectations I have for myself and for people around me. Then I can consciously decide if they are good to keep (such as expecting the person standing next to me on the bus to try to not fall on me), or if life would be better without them (such as expecting my husband to do the dishes the way I was taught how to do them).

Discovering your hidden expectations and weighing their effect can help you be happier—either because you decide to let them go or because you know what it is you're striving for.

But on the other hand, the high expectations others had of me helped me see what I could do, or at least have the courage to try to achieve things that required a lot of effort, willpower, and belief in myself—belief that I sometimes needed to borrow from others (my parents, my teachers, and sometimes my peer group) as I tried to measure up.



One short example of that was when my friends thought I would do well as a representative of the 7th (or 8th?) grade class in student government. I wouldn't have put myself out there to run if it hadn't been for their encouraging words, and I applied myself to the responsibilities involved because I knew they had faith in me to do a good job and bring up the important issues. And I enjoyed the great opportunity in the student government because of other people's expectations of me.

Have you had someone who helped you achieve more because he or she had high expectations of you?

What are some expectations you have of other people that you haven't told them?

Have you found out that you had hidden expectations that sabotaged your happiness, either in a friendship or with life in general?

On Hiding

Why do we hide?

I remember in school trying to sink down in my chair when I didn't know the answer to a question.

Making eye contact—if people can see you and you can see them, hiding is hard. When you don't want to be discovered, you try to make it so the other person can't see your eyes, the connectors, the acknowledgement that you know they can see you. That you accept that they—those eyes—can see you. You put your head down, hide your head (is there a name for this scientifically or in the world of sociology or psychology?).

We hide our faces to keep from showing what we think are imperfections—surface ones and ones beneath the skin.

During the underground railroad, and the hunting of people in Nazi Germany, they hid for safety.

Sickness
depression
unsurity
fear

you feel intimidated or unimportant
you don't want to disabuse people of misconceptions
you're playing (it's fun to be found)
you don't want people to see your weaknesses
you don't want people to remember you in your worst state.

In the scriptures, sometimes the wicked would wish that the mountains came down and covered them rather than meet the Savior, the Savior they didn't accept when they most needed to.

Because we're not sure who we are, and our courage wanes: Sound the Bugle (Bryan Adams)

To protect ourselves; To not hurt others
To escape from (or retreat to) the past.

Do we hide because we're dying to be found?

Afraid of what being found would mean?

How about you? What are some reasons you can think of for hiding?

How Like My Neighbors I Am

our world...
quiet places, undisturbed stillness
working in my element
I improve my corner of the world,
making it liveable for others

By Pudelek (Marcin Szala) (Own work)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

I weave invisible walls to protect me and mine.

I like to curl up in a nest that I've made.

I like the night hours because things are still and less busy and noisy.

I don't like to be disturbed in my home.

So like my neighbors.

They close doors behind them to shut others out.

They protect their children with walls—seen and unseen.

They block the world out with ear buds, trying to make a corner their own.

They scurry to their jobs, working to make the world a better place for others.

We like dark, quiet, undisturbed boxes.

We spend long periods of time waiting for something to come along.

We avoid sunlight, and awake from our droning stupor in the early morning and evening hours.

In moments when people scare me, in my fear I might seem unattractive, even vicious.

But I am so like them—Why be afraid?

Because they don't see how alike we are. 

My neighbors—so similar to myself—try to kill me. 

So I hide.

—Hairy Wolf Spider

By Thomas Shahan from USA (Eye Arrangement of a Hogna Wolf Spider) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

On Preparation

I got interviewed for a radio bit a few months ago. It was really cool—I got to go into the studio, wear the cool headphones, talk into a huge fluffy-looking microphone. I went without too much preparation. The interview was only a few minutes long, and it was about an article I had written, and about people I had interviewed. I thought it wouldn't be too hard.

I was in for some discomfort. My interviewer asked me (before the interview) what I wanted to talk about. I didn't know exactly. The things he wanted to hear about (what it's like teaching abroad, history of Kazakhstan, or more about what it's like to live abroad) I didn't necessarily know much about. I was stuck giving some generalizations and shortened versions of stories I remember them telling me. I left feeling like I didn't convey much when it could have been a fun interview.

Preparation would have made that encounter much less painful. It's not fun to be unprepared. Let's not even talk about how lame it is to sound dumb as soon as sounds come out of your mouth. And to appear like you're not really conveying what you want to. Yup, preparation would have made that go better.

Preparation is running things through beforehand. Figuring out what your purpose is. Planning out what you will say. I learned (again) that I'm not good at doing that on the fly. I needed more preparation before I slipped in front of the microphone.

Doctrine & Covenants 36:30 "but if ye are prepared ye shall not fear."

But preparation can take many forms. Preparing for an exam could mean hours of sitting with a textbook and notes spread out in front of you. Or it could mean talking with classmates about the course material. Preparing for giving a speech in front of a crowd could mean some time giving your speech to a mirror. Preparing for an interview could mean running through potential questions or getting more familiar with the background of the topic you're going to focus on.

That's where I messed up—I didn't anticipate being asked questions about current events in Kazakhstan, or the pros and cons of different teaching methods, though those were both loosely related to the topic at hand. I wasn't prepared to give my opinion on the feature story I wrote—I was only ready to give a report on it.

So while I did prepare, I didn't prepare correctly for the ordeal (yes, I would consider it an ordeal) ahead of me. It stands to reason that different kinds of performance demand different kinds of preparation—but sometimes we just can't know what kind of preparation is required until we've performed that particular kind of task before. That's a good reason to try new things and at least get your feet wet in several different activities—you'll have a better idea of what kind of preparation you need before doing that again.

But my lack of preparation, in this case, was more than an instance of the wrong preparation. It was also a lack of confidence. And forgiveness.

Sometimes you can't prepare for all the possibilities. In that case, building your courage and stepping forward might be the best kind of preparation you can do. Learning to go with things as they come is another kind of preparation. And not beating yourself up about what happens, the mistakes you WILL make. The scripture doesn't say "If ye are prepared ye shall not mess up"; it says "ye shall not FEAR." And one thing I fear is the bite of self-criticism that comes after not living up to my endlessly high expectations (like doing an excellent job on my first-ever radio interview). How easy that should be to overcome (it is, after all, my thoughts)—yet how intrenched it is. In that case, I think a great preparation for future performance is to forgive yourself for mistakes or "failures" in past performances. Resolve to be kind to yourself after doing something new, or something you know is hard for you. Then you will be prepared, and not give yourself more need to fear.

On Education

The following is a bit of a development of my response to a blog post. (Oh, man, I can't remember who wrote it or where it was...). [In searching for the article I responded to, I came across this blog post, which, although it may have ulterior motives, shares some of the same feelings I had at high school graduation.]

I remember graduating from high school, looking at my GPA and thinking "Was this really worth all the tears, and not hanging out with friends in order to stay on top of the honors classes?" And I don't have clear-cut answers.

I might write a blog post about this, but it seems like it's a balance between learning conventionally and not fettering yourself with convention. It's learning how to be self-directed in your discovery, but also not taking so few structured classes that you can't function in the world.

One way I keep running into this wall is that I want to graduate, but I want to take classes that are interesting to me—that I love, have a passion for. And the university keeps trying to guilt me into leaving. They say I should power through the required classes and get out of here—that my spot is taking the spot of someone else who would love to be here.

And that's true. But if we all sacrifice the education we want (with the extra, non-required classes) to move so someone else can have the spot, does anyone really get a full education?

Similarly from outside sources—the champions are the people who take 20 credits a semester and don't have a life outside of schoolwork. I hear people say "now, that person really values education." But do they? Is it ok for me to have a different idea about what education means? Does it matter that other people don't recognize what I've learned as valuable? I don't think it should. But that's harder to put into practice than it is to decide.

What about different learning styles?

On Gratification

instant gratification
letting yourself enjoy something
accepting gifts or help, or blessings from Heavenly Father
denying yourself pleasure, relief from pain, or something else arbitrarily.

Gratification has a bad connotation. How about enjoying? Relaxing? We accept those more, but do we really accept that it's okay to relax?

I certainly don't think that this applies to everything, but I have seen that some people just can't relax. They may believe that it's good to relax, but they just can't do it. For me, t seems that there's always something productive that we could be doing instead. But what does that even mean? Do I want to produce so much that I am squeezed dry? Or that i can't take in  a moment or relax and enjoy watching people for an evening? Productivity and the obsession with it is going to kill my sense of softness for the world, and my sense of wonder and joy—enjoy. With joy?

....any relation to gratitude? I think so...

Recent Brutal Event in the United Kingdom

I heard about the terrible actions of two men who attacked another man on the street, hacking at him with butcher knives...I heard the attackers said this was to show what happens in their country every day.

I say "I heard" for both of these because I don't want to look it up. I know there is footage of the attack, and I don't want to see it. My imagination is giving me enough pain as it is. Even with just knowing basic facts, I am left wondering why. Why in the world would those two men do this, choose to attack a random man on the street in such a brutal way? Why are they so callous? How did they get to that point of callousness and anti-empathy? I want to understand why someone would do this, in large measure because I don't want it to happen again.

While I think full responsibility for this action falls on the two perpetrators (acknowledging that I don't have the facts, so I can't really know that), there might be some conditions that led to them taking such a violent course of action, and that is something we can change.

My initial reaction to the attacker's "message" (that this happens in his country every day) was to make me want to not talk about the event, because that would give more attention to the deed and perhaps in some ways justify the act. That was my initial reaction, but I think there is more we can learn here by looking at what happened critically, and not taking this man's word at face value. There is SO much more that could be going on here.

Examining their supposed cause for a moment: why would they, of all things, choose to attack a man in the UK to show that their country was violent? They might have felt that this would grab the attention of the world (in that they would probably be right). But why would they want the attention of the world? Maybe they thought it would get them help faster. I don't think they thought that one through, because people hearing about this will think of their own fixes for this problem, and an unorganized and from-all-sides approach will probably be more chaotic than helpful.

A pause for a moment. I wonder if their perception of the violence in their country is skewed. It is possible that they had an inaccurate view of how things have happened in their country. And I wonder why they thought such violence would help their country be less violent.

Their words seem to bring with them an accusation: something saying "You haven't been paying attention. There is violence in ____, and YOU are the one that needs to fix it." Who knows, maybe there is some justification to thinking the world should be concerned with the violence going on in other nations. But why did they think the UK (or the world at large) should specifically do something about it?

Their words also seem to demand an immediate response, a quick fix. Interesting that they want to fix violence with an equally violent call to arms (if you can call what they did that...which I really don't think we can), yet they seem to be asking for peace, and peace doesn't happen overnight. True peace in a community has to start deep down, and get hold of the hearts of the people. Peace is built on trust, respect, and caring about the people around you.

I don't know how to process what they did, and I certainly don't think I'll understand them quickly. I just hope we can be the kind of world where if people ask for help in less sensational ways, we'll help them.