Momma told me there'd be days like these...

Subtitle: Ramblings and cryptic disclosures

Back in college, my favourite teacher was Mr. Heaney. Not because he made me feel good about myself, but because he didn't. In fact, I think we all left his classroom with our heads hung in shame over our fallen nature. One of the more poignant lessons was about "blocked lousy goals". Let me explain: With every situation, we have an expectation of how it should turn out. Since so often, our scripted outcome fails to make the final cut, we get angry, sad, and pass out blame. The goal we had was blocked. We didn't get what we wanted. Who knew Mick Jagger was that insightful? So, if our goal was to satisfy our desires and if that goal was intended to give us "life", then our goal was lousy. Blocked. Lousy. Goal.

This brings me to a conversation I had today about expectations. It was pointed out that we need to learn how to manage our expectations. Manage? What about killing them? They are lousy and no good and seldom does anything positive come out of them. Expectations, as I was taught, put a responsibility on things and people beyond our control to bring us our idea of happiness. I have thought about this, and I have not yet come up with any concrete way to manage them. What a pointless blog, so far. I hope you weren't expecting something good.

I will say this: I am glad that today I can pound the water as we practice our race pace. I am also glad that needlepoint isn't a full contact sport. When the concrete starts to set, hopefully some good habits and coping skills are embedded in the mix. I shouldn't even try to compare losses when one isn't personal, it is final, and has left me with joy. The other wasn't, isn't, and hasn't. Oh yes, and voo-doo dolls as gestalt therapy might not be such a bad idea.