Expectations: From History

In a legal studies class once, our professor asked us, “Why do you think lawyers have walls of books and volumes in their offices?” It’s not just to look smart, he explained with a laugh. He explained that all those books are full of cases and serve the lawyer as events of precedence. In order to prove his case or down the opposition, legal counsel will reference previous cases. At one point, those cases were new but now they’ve become the standard. 

History is:

• Our own experience
• Others’ experiences
• What have become the new guidelines and reference points
• Anything that’s happened before and influences after 

The expectation that history gives us is called precedence.

As I’ve thought on this topic, common sayings come perfectly to mind, illustrating the power and influence of history on the future: 

Once bitten, twice shy. When our hearts are broken, it’s a natural defense to quickly escort it to security and lock it up so that no one else can get to it and hurt it. With heartbreak, it’s like a brand new book of guidelines have been dropped into our lap: of how guys act, the signs to watch out for that invisibly lined our way to this dark destination, what their sneaker tracks look like to get there and new warnings of delayed attachment, the installation of suspicion, and the distrust of affection intended to bring two people closer instead of being grossly manipulated to shove them apart. The two parts that compose this home-bound heart are 1) not looking for anyone new and 2) not letting anyone make any progress in their distance to our heart.  

Do it once, shame on you; do it twice, shame on me. Ahh, an old adage that basically warns us to learn our lesson the first time. We get a free pass the first time, such as a best friend betraying our secrets, our romance, or our friendship. But, the second time we do it, let it happen, or it happens to us after letting that person back in, how do we then explain? A record has already been created; we “should have known.” It’s so much more difficult to get sympathy or get people to listen when we’ve been stripped of ignorance. That’s a strong expectation to fight against—not only is it getting someone to change (such as becoming faithful, quit doing “this,” or start doing “that”) but the rest of the battle comes in convincing everyone else of this metamorphosis. 

Hindsight is 20/20. I see the validity in this one, and yet there are just certain situations where it seems we’re still searching for the right prescription to view it in and one to figure out what went wrong, such as preventing the next genocide. When we go to examine how love died, years can go by and the view is still murky and there is no crispy clarity. Yet, with time, acceptance can prompt us to admit the truth and new experiences can enlighten archives as new lessons and examples are applied to old ones or the two are compared and contrasted. Our expectations from history can be changed when the future disproves and revises them. 

History encompasses experience and learning, things people hold even after they put the book away, turn the TV off, or cut the conversation. For this, history arguably creates the greatest—and most difficult to defy—expectations. 

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Expectations are the things set before us that we are obligated and supposed to follow. We can create them ourselves, manufacturing what we've observed together with what we believe...BUT should we lack that within us, no worry--there's never a shortage of what people think we "should" do.

The Picture Frame: An Act of Faith

Acts of faith can be scary; they are committing your belief not to reason, but hope; there is no safety for this isn’t tangible, but intangible. There’s no external evidence; only the image you see from behind closed eyes. It’s believing that something will be on the other side when you emerge from behind the curtain…or, rather, it’s having the audience already watching you and you give the order—“Draw the curtain!” and reveal it to everyone. 

And living by veins in the schools of, “Why not go out on a limb? That’s where all the fruit is,” and “I’d rather have a life of ‘Oh wells,’ rather than, ‘What ifs?’” I got up on stage: I went on a search for a picture frame today.

I bought this picture frame as an act of faith—that one day I’ll put a picture of a new love I never thought was possible in it. I’ve been sowing and sowing and sowing—in time and expectancy. Harvest is coming. (: And I will gently turn those black leaves that lie against a velvet backing, opening the gate to this kingdom I never thought I would be a part of and insert the rebuttal for every doubt and dosage of medicine for every scratch and laceration on this wounded heart. 

Dream lofty dreams, and as you dream, so you shall become. Your vision is the promise of what you shall one day be; your ideal is the prophecy of what you shall at last unveil.

      ~ James Allen, British philosopher

When Will My Life Begin?

"When Will My Life Begin" - Mandy Moore 

This song from Tangled was my theme song for the winter of 2012-2013. Going through the same routine, doing the same things, feeling like you're living the same day over and over and you can't escape. Even more so, when you're bursting at the seams with dreams, you wonder, when will I get there? When will all these visions I have for my life appear before my physical eyes? I'm believing for it...where is it? 

Almost five months later, I'm back to breathing, but a new air. I'm not waiting to hear back from literary agents on my YA novel so I can get out there and start talking to girls about our lives; I have the power to share my words and thoughts because that orange "Publish" button doesn't have guidelines or waiting times, but rather, he belongs to me. (: This writing space, this column, this blog is a testament of that December/January/February downward press on me. Rather, this blog is the result of what that season did to me.

It took that winter journey to make me unafraid of living. 

My own heartbreak was the catalyst for that depression. He left with no goodbye and no return date. And, his leaving was like the pulling the bottom Jenga piece out of my life: everything fell and I was I was forced to examine everything for how it was: my unhappiness with school, my major, and the fact that now that he was gone and no longer my Saturday night, I realized how much I missed my scattered college girlfriends. 

I'd been doing on an online program for school and it was excellent in quality, course offerings, and my student body. But, as a 19-year-old, I felt like I was rotting away in front of a computer screen, this and the paint on my walls my only stimulation. I was prone to crying all the time, sleeping 11+ hours a night...I couldn't even get "breath" and clear my head by working out (and when that, my constant sure-fire way to clarity, didn't help, I knew something was wrong.) 

I started going to the library to do schoolwork, varied my gym times, and tried to go out more. But, that still didn't do it. And along with that despairing realization was my discontent with my major; seven, eight courses in, I realized the field was too pessimistic of humanity (and that was too much for optimistic me!). 

So one Saturday night I mentally fell to my knees. With light fingers after midnight, I did a Google search of a nearby university, just to see what that life might look like. 

And I saw they had English...a lifelong dream of mine to major in, but somewhere along the way of thinking I might be a doctor or own my own businesses, it got lost. After taking in the course requirements and descriptions of every page in the department, I went to bed with the possibility that night.

I woke up the next morning and like a child again, I crawled into bed with my mom. Amongst our conversation, I blurted it out: "I hate my program." And like letting air of a balloon, breath my breath, I told her of my Google searching earlier that "morning." She was BEYOND supportive, and that Sunday we drove up to the gorgeous, commuter campus. I met with an admissions counselor the next day, got my transfer going, and bought my books for two five-week summer courses yesterday. (: 

I had always thought school was too large a thing to change. That was pulling out a piece of foundation on my house, if you will! Could I even do that? 

Yes. I told my dad after I was accepted and he more happy for me than I ever could have imagined. I'm SO blessed and fortunate and lucky and everything good to have parents who just want me to be happy. I think both of them are just happy self-starting, I'm-graduating-college-two-years-early me is recognizing she needs to take moments to be 19.

The best word to describe that winter (now, physically distant, but still sending a silent terror through my heart) was "leveled." That online program was what I needed to believe in for the end of high school, that summer, and fall quarter. But, I outgrew that shoe, threw it over my shoulder, and tried a new one. For as dark as those days were, I can't believe the greater things that grew from that: transferring to a school I've fallen in love with, still discerning which one, the returned past or unexpected future, I'll be doing the same with, and the courage to live; to be sick of fear and allergic to indecision. I've given up hesitation. I stay smart and wise about my decision, for sure. But, before I find myself going around in circles now in eternal pro and con lists, I stop--and say, I'm just going to live. 

Amidst classes that will only count for admission and colleges courses that will build a degree, it's so easy and understandable to feel like, when will my life begin? In a life of leisure in hanging out with friends, a life of hardship in taking on atypical responsibilities, or a mix of the two, questions of choosing the the media to record with and even having the canvas run around the track of the mind. When will I get to do what I want? 

Like my new "Publish" button, the interaction of an arranged wife and husband who are only beginning to learn each other as we are, find the "Start" button that you can press to begin your life. You are NEVER too young to begin doing what you love; after all, if you love it, isn't it a part of you? (: And moreover, turn what you love into your life. Don't deny your destiny--EMBRACE IT with no apologies, but all your love.

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BUT:

What if what you wants to do takes time and training you don't have yet? For example, you want to be a doctor and you love the medical field. With the scientific knowledge yet to be had (along with board certification, licensing, and legality...), how do you do what you love now? There are hospital volunteer programs, and there are also short internships abroad with more hands-on opportunities. Envision yourself as a physician every time you drive to that hospital and feel it when you take that trip to offer your care. 

Need ideas and a brainstorming session of how to "begin" your life? Write me! We'll come up with a plan :) Vision is priceless; the heart for it is what you need. Everything else can be figured out.