Essay on Expectations
‘Expectations - realistic or unrealistic - are woven into the fabric of our lives. Based on experiences all the way from childhood, information coming to us from trusted sources, and the immediacy of the events of a day………….’
Hmm....that sounded like a good start to her paper. After school, Cara, 14 years old, finally sat down to write her essay for class - tomorrow’s class. It didn’t really matter, because she had never liked Mr. C. anyway. Anything she did for his class was half-hearted at best. In the morning, her mother and father had been talking about expectations while they were all having breakfast. Actually they were complaining about Christmas and all the things they are supposed to do. Her dad complained about all the money that he had to spend. She guessed that they were arguing rather than talking. She remembered rolling her eyes at all their moaning and groaning.
“We did it this way in our family! And we always had a real tree - and not one from a lot. It’s all about the experience - you know family going out in the snow to cut down their tree, then coming home to hot chocolate and a fireplace...” Her mom had got all misty eyed and trailed off so far she overflowed her coffee cup. Another real eye roller.
“Well, we did it this way in our family, and it always worked out. Would you please get in touch with reality! Forget a real tree, even one from a lot. The fake one we got last year with all the lights already on it is just fine. When all the living room lights are off you can’t even tell it’s not real. And besides that think of the trees that get saved!”
“What about all the fuel it takes just to make all your old fake trees! David Suzuki must have some research on that. And a real tree can be chopped up for firewood - at least it could if we had a fireplace - and all those needles would be good mulch. I have to look that up to make sure, though.”
“Getting all that fuel keeps a lot of folks in jobs. And what about all the presents you think we need to get for the kids. They expect more and more every year. For heaven’s sake they’re teenagers! They don’t even believe in Santa Claus anymore and you want us to go through all the drama that comes with it?”
“But they expect to have ‘all that drama’! There wouldn’t be any Christmas spirit without it! Oh heavens, do we have to have this same discussion every single year?”
“Honey, do you remember how we always sort it out?” Her dad's voice smiled at her mom. Weird.
“Hush, dear. It’s a good thing that Michael has already left for school, but Cara might be listening. Can we discuss it in more detail this upstairs this afternoon?”
Cara, a master of thumb typing had been quietly and under the table, writing the opening line to her essay on her cell phone while the two of them argued. Rolling her eyes one more time, she went off to meet her girlfriend, before she got so dizzy she couldn’t walk. The rest of the essay could wait til after school.
“Does your reality match your expectations? If not it’s time
to change either your expectations or your reality.”
~ Steven Redhead, The Solution
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