With every passing year, I seem to set more and more exacting standards for myself. Assignments must come with perfect alignments and margins and a certain number of references. Work must be delivered to a certain standard. Blogs must be witty and insightful. People must be careful and considerate. The world should be at peace…
Right now, it kind of unnerves me.
I’ve become so unforgiving. Of others and especially of myself. A lost book, a misplaced shirt, a missed deadline, a forgotten email, a low grade, a delayed phone call… They bring me such harsh criticism. From myself. Avoidable mistakes. Mistakes that should never have occured because a little careful planning and a lot of careful control could have averted them.
Inconsideration, selfishness, leaving the last spoon unwashed in the sink because you didn’t use it, little warmth and a basket load of expectations seem to
I wonder where the softness has gone. I seem to have morphed from easy-melt chocolate to the hard on the outside, fragile and breakable inside kind of candy.
What do I really expect from myself and the world? What is the perfect state I strive for anyway? Why are the walls so carefully reinforced at the end of every new encounter and every new disappointment? When did the expectations soar? Why have I become judgemental?
Sometimes, I feel like there are two distinct people inside us all. A side of us that freely cares, freely gives and is not afraid of being hurt. And the other side that evolves with time and experience. The side that gains greater control as time goes by. Why do we let this side of us gain control? Why do we let ourselves become cynical, jaded and clever? Why do we draw lines and boundaries and not test the true extent of our sharing. Why do we judge? Criticise? Hate? What do we fear?