Precious Lily

It’s most likely inevitable… Lily is dying.

She had lived so many years within Phil’s embrace that the trauma of being ripped away had eroded her to the core. He was after all, her savior. It was he who had hid her during the Feng-Shui occupation by covering her with enormous petals and encouraging her not to bloom but to look small and encased.

Lily came to the treatment center with others in a dish garden. She was a gift to one of the doctors who had healed a German guest. The florist who matched the combination of plants was inexperienced and had to rely on aesthetics rather than compatibility to make the arrangement. It served its initial purpose but within weeks a few of the occupants of the dish rebelled and showed their contempt for being mashed together by dying off. The fresh ribbons became stained by water and dirt and were also discarded leaving only a sprig of a tall peace lily and a philodendron in a Vietnamese ceramic pot.

In contrast, the philodendron was bushy and wild. He grew in every direction starting out with the morning sun and bending westward in the late afternoons with the changing light. His body was twisted and bristled. Like a man who would commandeer his troops, he towered over thin Lily and encircled her.

Lily kept her identity by growing tall and straight. She threw her arms open far over her head as in joyful exuberance knowing that she was safe being surrounded by this masculine companion. He wove in and out of her dark green body sometimes lifting her into the air and sometimes blanketing her gently. Life was good.

This existence lasted for many years as patients came and went and the clinic flourished. Eyes set upon Phil and Lily who had eventually grown to heritage proportions and her solid darkness and his variegated streaks were complimented. “Such a beautiful, unplanned pairing” said a woman noticing the unique plant couple.

When the Asian came for a stay and opted to pay in the form of Feng-Shui advice somehow, Lily was observed. She was deemed as a “wild” plant that grew in opposition to a peaceful environment. She was labeled “disruptive” to the healing process. It was decided that Lily had to leave the premise for healing to continue.

Lily might have been ripped away right then and there but a plant-lover heard of the dilemma and felt the icy pain of death to this plant couple and saw the union as more than a simple cosmic failure. She stole the pot and whisked it away to solve the problem. She brought the loving couple home and despite hearing all the forewarned advice of the impending doom the plant couple would place within the air surrounding their pot, she cared for them.  The air was not poisoned and the plant couple lived for many more years, blooming gracefully and peacefully in their Vietnamese pot.

Phil continued to grow wildly and embrace Lily as he always had because it’s what he knew, and she loved being held even as he stole most of her space because it’s what she did. Eventually, she had no more room to give and her arms began to weaken. He embraced her fiercely hoping to revive her, but she continued to spiral downhill and wilt.

The plant lover knew the plant-couple needed to change. She changed the dirt and moved them into a larger dish. Then she gave them space and quiet, and waited.

Phil continued to thrive, adjusting well but Lily was shocked. She was experiencing too much new…  too much change…  too quickly. The new-differentness was crippling.

Did the plant-lover make an error?

It was finally decided, on the brink of death that Lily would be taken from Phil and planted lovingly in a small pot with the hope of starting over. She would be nourished and loved in front of a warm heater during a joyous holiday season where she was never alone. The hope was that if she could bring herself to recover she would be strong enough to return to Phil’s embrace to grow as always.

Phil is waiting. The plant-lover is tending. Lily is dying. Life will run it’s intended course, as always.

Time will tell.

What Can I expect of Facebook?

An old, slightly bedridden woman once told me that we live our lives and in the end, get the expectations we create for ourselves.

At the time she said this, I was visiting her while she was in a clinic healing from a long year of unyielding work. She owned a company that educated preschool children and she had grown weary attempting the international travel necessary to oversee her expansion. Probably due to her condition, I regrettably didn’t pay much heed to her current wisdom or ramblings in general. I knew she was in pain and talking was a welcomed distraction. She had just finished writing a book about her life and although I was fascinated with her accomplishment, I wasn’t to think about our discussion again until many years later.

I was debating blocking a friend on Facebook for what I felt was an increasingly common tactic of “toeing the line” in a comment. He took a wishy-washy stance when commenting on a very precise action. I called him on it and he deflected. This has happened in the past so many times with him (and others) that something inside me finally snapped. I repeated my accusation and asked him to clarify. He deflected again. I kept it up until he sent me a private message asking me how I could confront him in public? Perhaps I already knew how he felt about the subject and he asked why I would force him to make a statement in front of others. His unwillingness to take a public stance left him free to befriend anyone on both sides of the argument, I supposed. Why should he have to choose right or wrong in front of anyone? His “mysteriousness” was a tact that helped him feel accepted. To me, this was not an acceptable way to answer a direct question and my expectation was very different. I expected him to put himself out there and allow me the chance to respond based on his truthful answer. He expected my response to be based on his deflection -I believe-to keep him in better standing with the public that was listening in. Thus, not wanting to play this game with him any longer, I blocked him.

I believe I kept digging because at that very moment, I created an expectation. It wasn’t an expectation that would force him to feel as I felt or share my opinion. Rather, I was expecting him to truthfully define and convey his opinion to me so that I could create a response to his honesty. I also felt I reserved the right to choose who this person would be to me in our future dealing based on his position. He could be someone with whom I wanted to align myself, someone I wanted to avoid or someone who became indifferent to me either way. But I felt that his deflection was a safely construed power play to take away my right to choose.  I needed all the information to move forward one way or the other so he couldn’t allow me to have it without facing consequences which might make either of us feel uncomfortable.

I think what this amazing, gently aged author was trying to tell me during our discussion was that I can easily take my power to choose back when I change my expectations. I was expecting someone to answer a question. They chose not to answer. In reflection, this form of not answering seems disrespectful to me and makes me think about how I should judge a participant within a discussion. It does not give me the power to force them to respond. It leaves me with the power to expect something in return for my own personal honesty.

So, I accept this. He is a friend with whom "further" discussion is denied. He will only continue when he feels it is appropriate. He will continue to expect to discuss topics with me but at his pace and discretion. Do I need such a friend? This type of person tries my patience and creates an imbalanced friendship where I feel controlled.

If my expectation is that my friends will enjoy discussions from time to time, then no…  he will not be a friend. If my expectation is that it is not necessary to have balanced discussions, open honesty is too raw, then possibly. Can I have discussions that turn into confrontation and “agree to disagree?” Do I expect to glean something with each discussion? Is there a controlling factor underlying the proposed discussion? Is the answer at least an attempt at honesty and?

All of these questions can be answered when I decide what my personal expectations entail. Creating and defining my own expectations is no easy task and I can see it adjusting itself often as new factors come into play. I will be more aware that other people are constantly creating expectations and will try not to influence them. You alone should “own” what you expect.

When I find the true expectations that are most important to me, I think facebook will fall into place with less aggravation and frustration. I hope I can convince others to be honest with me about their expectations also. In the end, it will be a lot less confusing. …at least for me.