Never coming to resolution, I’ve lived in expectation limbo for several years until I saw the movie, “Did You Hear About the Morgans” over Christmas break. The movie’s one redeeming quality is it reopened my contemplation. The Morgan’s are separated, considering divorce. Hugh Grant (I can never remember character’s names in movies) presents Sarah Jessica Parker with a book, authored by a psychologist, with the premise that marriages fail because spouses’ expectations are too high. During this meeting the Morgan’s accidentally witness a murder (NYC) and end up in the Witness Protection Program in some podunk town in Wyoming, living in the wilderness with Sam Elliot and Mary Steenburgen who have been married for at least twenty years. So the separated couple find themselves sharing a room in the middle of nowhere with Buffalo Bill and Annie Oakley. Tempers flare and arguments rage during which the book topic of no expectations is dissected, accused, threatened and forsaken. Sam and his wife are deprived of sleep during these blaring discussions. The climatic point comes when in frustration Sam Elliot turns to them and delivers a sanctimonious discourse (can’t you just hear that rich baritone, syrupy drawl?) on the secrets of a good marriage in which he ends by shouting, “And you expect everything!”

Really? Sounds dangerous to me. My personal history in relationships testifies my biggest mistakes revolve around expectations. And then I had an epiphany … maybe I was confusing presumption with expectation.

I realize it’s a fine line between presume and expect. And quite possibly it only exists in my mind. But it’s an important distinction to me and makes a difference in how I approach life and relationship. Presume falls into the category of “taking for granted,” “assuming rights” or “taking liberties.” Expect associates with the words “believe” and “hope.” In contemplating this, I’ve realized I view this with a positive spin. I suppose doomsayers could expect the worse. When I affirm, “Expect everything,” I’m expounding with a positive connotation.

Remembering my Biblical studies, Scripture makes similar distinctions. David prays, “Keep me back from presumptuous sins,” yet the reoccurring theme of the New Testament postulates the expectation of heaven.

And so, this is my new challenge: Presume nothing. Expect everything. I view relationship of primary importance and this is my focus. For example: I will not presume my lover to be, act, perform or think in any specific manner. I will expect him to love me, consider my point of view, take my considerations to heart and cherish my well-being. In other words, I will not presume he will return home from work, lay me across the kitchen table, rip off my clothes, flutter his tongue over, around and on my clit until I’m crying in ecstasy before climbing on top and impaling me repeatedly till kingdom comes. (Extremely challenging for a writer of erotica.) But I can expect him to charm, titillate, arouse, tantalize and satisfy me. In my mind, one difference is presume applies to specifics and expect pertains to generalities. I’m sure this will evolve with time and your comments. So bring them on. I challenge you … improve my relationships; enhance my life. ☺

Hugs,
Regina

I enter 2010 with eagerness, new energy and positive attitude. It’s a new year, a new decade, a new beginning. I resigned from New Year resolutions the year my now ex-husband resolved to play more golf! Besides, my resolutions just became a challenge to break for my rebellious nature. But as I’ve matured (how I refer to growing older) I’ve come to appreciate affirmations.

Next post will be this year’s affirmation. Ponder it with me and share your thoughts. I have many and look forward to sharing them. My wish for all of you in 2010,

“Presume nothing. Expect everything.”

Until next time….
Hugs,
Regina

I first learned of Michael Jackson’s death on Twitter. The tweet: “What a week. First Ed, then Farrah and now Jacko!” Who? I immediately opened my trusted Google to enlighten me. Of course, I’d heard of Michael, but most of what I knew about him was his recent tragic life and lawsuits. Due to the media blast that has followed his death I have now seen a Michael Jackson video for the first time. I’m enthralled. I now understand his impact—the talent, genius, work ethic, and emotion that transformed music.

Michael Jackson did not experience a childhood; he tried to retrieve it, live it, share it with other children. Obviously, it affected his concept of reality and he spiraled into a neurotic, possibly psychotic, state of existence. David Edelstein of CBS Sunday Morning commented on the true tragedy of Michael’s life: “When you watch Michael Jackson sing on the video, “You Are Not Alone” your heart breaks that no one was singing that song to him.”

I don’t have the additional challenges of fame, fortune and tabloids, but I can identify with MJ. First lesson learned: All things in moderation. Any extreme is harmful to the psyche. I made a mistake trying to eliminate worldly influence. Second lesson learned: No one can go back. You can’t relive what has been lost. The past cannot be changed. But I can assimilate and appreciate gems from the 80’s. Can you imagine what it’s like to watch “Bad,” “Billie Jean,” “Thriller,” or “Man in the Mirror” for the first time?

Excerpt from Playgirl:

“Are you sure you haven’t been listening to Blondie for years?”
“Positive. I’d never heard of them until you introduced me to “One Way or Another.”
“How can that be? You live in a cave or something?”
“No, just wide open spaces — no neighbors within five miles.”
“For real? Your nearest neighbor is five miles?”
“Yep.”
“Damn…do you even have radio out there? Is that why you’d never heard of
Blondie?”
“No, we have radio,” I giggle, “but I rarely listened to secular music for years. Now the world of music is wide open to me. I feel like I’ve just been born. I heard REO Speedwagon on the radio the other day and I thought it was a brand new group.”
“Oh…my…God.”
“I know. I have a lot of catching up to do. But, who better to guide me than you! I have my own personal DJ.”
“So what did you listen to?” Music is his life. He writes it, performs it, and he’s the disc jockey of the evening show on a “70’s, 80’s, and Now” mix station in Charleston.
“Christian.”
“Why?”
“Rock music is the syncopated beat of the devil, haven’t you heard?”
“Guess not…thank God! But there’s a lot of Christian rock out there.”
“Yeah, I know. The eternal debate in my church. I can’t remember how many times my son, Rand, came home from Bible camp, and we’d have a burning in the backyard.”
“Burning? Of what?”
“His rock CDs.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not…I promise.”
“Now I’m really confused. How in the hell did you end up at a porno site?”