>In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve always had high expectations. This, by a generous observer may be quantified as good taste, refined interests, manners, a voracious appetite for success in any endeavor. In less magnanimous circles, I have been called a snob, pretentious, ruthless, cold. I’ve been demanding of myself and others my entire life and although I thought I had released all of that in recent years, a couple of things have been coming up lately that show me that bastion of elitism has not quite fizzled from my foundation. I’d like to think I’m “om shanti,” turns out I might still be a bitch.
On the whole “everything is one thing” tip, re: haut monde, if this is innate within me, it is not an unwelcome quality unless presumably I take it to a point where it becomes harmful to myself or others; to the point where being what I deem to be excellent interferes with compassion or houses itself in judgment I am unaware of. If I don’t want to put Burger King into my body, that’s my prerogative. If I think you’re an asshole for doing so, well that’s just mean.
My mother suffered a lifetime of being irked by my urbanity. (Imagine rearing the finicky six-year-old who pooh poohs cold cuts in her daily lunches, or vacationing with the 28-year-old who dubs the all-inclusive carribbean Hilton you are paying for “bourgeois.”) However this week she beckoned for me to bring back more of the “old margaret.” Not in ego or personality… in fact, just recently my mom told my sister that our last visit was the best we’ve ever been together. For a mother and daughter that had three decades of being (insert metaphor for whatever could be even more violently opposed than oil and water,) my mom and are are now, like, seriously besties. She’s my go to phone call. We talk an hour a day. For anyone who knew us ten years ago, he/she might have deemed that preposterous, impossible. It’s beyond beautiful and it has everything to do with all of this stuff. So when she asked me to bring back more of the “old margaret” she meant, after these years of pushing my boundaries to find what was essential or more importantly, non-essential, time to let go of some of the hippie. Translation?: Take the peace. Leave the birkenstocks.
My mother was only echoing sentiments that I had been progressing toward naturally, but as with all growth, relationship pains can be tricky thorns to embrace. I’m not only discussing the material realm here. My snobbery has seemingly crossed over into the emotional playing field.
There’s a great article a girlfriend emailed me a couple of weeks ago from the Times titled “What Pets Can Teach Us About Marriage.” Its opening line is: “Do you greet each other with excitement, overlook each other’s flaws and easily forgive bad behavior? If it’s your pet, the answer is probably yes. But your spouse? Probably not.” The article goes on to say that when pets make mistakes we don’t take it personally and are quick to forgive. It outlines how taking such an approach in interpersonal relationships could soften our interactions.
When I was married, my and my ex’s relationship lightened the moment we split. From the moment I decided to move out, we were besties again. We even had a divorce party. I wasn’t holding him to some set of expectations that I was devastated he could never meet. He no longer had to be the Norman Rockwell husband in my eyes, he could just be himself and if he wasn’t what I needed at the moment, that’s all that was necessary to discover and we could move on from there. It needn’t be moving on with a 50 person vodka-soaked party. However, if you happen to have a loft at your disposal, I gotta say, that’s a super enjoyable way to go.
Recently I became upset with some people close to me due to actions which I deemed inappropriate. I am a believer that when discord happens in my life, it’s my job to investigate what “my fingerprints” are in the situation. Rather than complaining to whomever will listen about the situation (or at least, in this less than stellar instant, AFTER complaining to whomever would listen) sitting down and figuring out how and why this situation presented itself to me…
Looks like I should have fido’d ‘em from the get go. Once I released them from whom I thought they needed to be (not matching the particular brand of excellence I craved at the moment,) their actions were no longer hurtful, irritating or infuriating. If my dog chose beef jerky over a bed of kale, I would not be pissed. He’d probably eat both, but the jerky was closer. If a puppy innocently marked his territory on my newly acquired white armchair, anger would be fruitless.
Rather than use incidents for judgment or consternation, I remind myself I can just use them for information. In simplest terms, to use someone else’s phrase, we are not on the same “wavelength.” That is not a positive or negative thing, it just is. So I can bemoan, mourn or get angered at that fact, and perhaps I will for a short while to give that feeling its due and allow it to pass, but if I chastise someone for not being where I am, that’s not only ridiculously egotistical and petty, it doesn’t serve me either. Where would I be if others hadn’t allowed me my tantrums or selfishness? I’d probably be stuck in them, or stuck in more of them. I’d probably have driven away every friend or lover I’ve ever had with my past transgressions of bitchdom to an epic degree. Grace is gracious. It will move us.
This is maybe sometimes easier said than done—we get caught up in the conditioning of roles we play for each other. We want a sibling or best friend to be there the day a lover wants to move on, for a good old bitch fest or cry, regardless of their work deadlines. We want a partner to be listening compassionately, holding us fiercely, ideally feeding us raw 70% cacao organic chocolate (no, let’s get real, New York Super Fudge Chunk- from the pint, please, no need to dish it out) after a tough day. We want our mom to emphasize our attributes and affirm we deserve the best, when the reality of the situation is maybe she’s feeling less than awesome that day and has worries we can’t relate to.
If we could loosen our expectations, even just a little, how much more flexibility would it allow us in our relationships? I would venture to guess that on a small investment in giving someone the benefit of the doubt, we’d receive a greater return than we’d expect.
After my bitching and bemoaning, once I did decide to take responsibility for my own reactions and allow others to be where they are (which is really only where they can be at the end of the day) the grace appeared.
The sexy neighborhood hottie girlfriend I knew I was destined to meet emailed me saying “I could feel you… let’s go get a steak and a kir royale at a French bistro.” On the street, I ran into someone who knew me to my core and reaffirmed my innate warmth, without my needing to ask. Our guidance and intuition lead us to the connections that feed us, when we loosen the reigns on what we think it’s “supposed “ to look like. And the greatest lesson, time and again, like a miraculous record that gets better each time we hear it, is the way that life looks without those expectations is much more fabulous, sexy and full of possibilities than any box we can conceive for ourselves… no matter how luxe that box looks in our mind’s eye. So maybe the best way to look at others IS the way we look at our dogs. It’s simpler, it’s sweeter, and in the end, we’re the ones who feel the love.
