La inceput, mai copii fiind, nu facem nimic special. Mancam , dormim, ne plimbam si dormim. Inca descoperim lumea si cum functioneaza, e o stare pasiva, doar de observare.
Apoi, mai mult obligati de imprejurimi, ne gasim brusc impotmoliti cu treburi multe, situatii grele, lucruri urgente si trebuie sa ne descurcam. Realziam pe moment cat de real este totul; consecintele ce urmeaza si ne sperie. Ne obisnuim apoi sa fim mereu pe fuga, mereu ocupati, buni la toate. Omul universal, pentru ca nu avem de ales. Fara sa ne dam seama, ajungem dependenti de treaba, de agitatie, de a face ceva, orice. Sa producem, sa avem tot timpul o ocupatie, sa ajungem undeva, la anumita ora… Cand avem un moment liber, nu stim ce sa facem cu el. Nu mai este ceva obisnuit, des… uitam sa ne relaxam. Cautam sa umplem momentele goale cu treburi, caci nu par naturale. Uitam stam jos pe un scaun sau sa pastram liniste cateva minute, caci linistea pare nenaturala. Simtim ca trebuie umpluta. Asta cunoastem. Asa este zi de zi. 
Chiar daca suntem incet-incet prinsi in ceva ce la inceput parea minunat insa pe parcurs devine altfel si nu ne mai este benefic, vom continua sa facem ce facem mereu… pentru ca ne obisnuim.
Conform si experimentului cu broasca, daca o iei din senin si o bagi in apa fiarta, va sari, insa daca o bagi in apa rece si aceasta se incalzeste treptat, broasca nu va realiza, caci schimbarile sunt prea mici iar ea se obisnuieste cu apa deja… iar in final va muri fiarta…
Poate ca avem nevoie de pauze, de liniste, de relaxare si de un impuls de a sparge rutina cumva… insa nu putem realiza ca avem nevoie de acestea cat timp nu realizam ca ceea ce facem este rutina si nu ne este benefic. De fapt, poate chiar realizam ca nu este ceva benefic insa vom continua motivandu-ne cu lucruri ca si banii, recompense finale… Poate chiar nu vrem sa scapam din rutina insa ne mintim ca este cel mai bine, ca are o finalitate si ca toate vor trece de la sine fara implicare de la noi. E cel mai trist lucru, poate chiar ca si cum am fi broasca ce sta in apa si spera ca se va raci inapoi… Ma intreb cati oameni constientizeaza aceste lucruri… si cati decid sa faca ceva in urma realizarii…

Consider ca nu sunt o fiinta bogata. In general nu am bani pentru ca familia nu are, si stiind asta, nu cer nimic. Trec prin oras uitandu-ma la rochii frumoase in vitrine, uneori pentru ca doar imi place sa le privesc, alteori mi-as dori sa le si cumpar. In acelasi timp observ cersetori ce ridica fructe de pe ciment si haine din pubele. Vad oameni ce merg grabiti, fiecare incotro apuca si oameni ce stau mereu in acelasi loc, privindu-i.  Este destul de trist sa observi cum unii oameni au totul si altii nu au nimic. Imi pare rau. Nu as vrea sa para dramatic, simt doar ca din cei ce au mereu tot ce doresc si nu trebuie sa se uite in portofel inainte de a cumpara ceva ori de a se duce intr-un restaurant, ar putea fi cativa care sa se implice prin donatii de haine, de mancare ori de alte lucruri folositoare, caci exista oameni ce nu au nimic si nu isi pierd doar mancarea si adapostul, ci si sufletul.
Oamenii mor cand isi pierd increderea in sine, in ceea ce pot face si in viziunea proprie asupra viitorului. Am observat fructe intregi, ori muscate o data si aruncate la gunoi, iar daca cineva nu este infometat ori stie ca nu va termina un fruct.. de ce sa il inceapa si sa il arunce? N-ar putea sa il pastreze ori sa il dea altcuiva? Am observat multe lucruri care ar fi folositoare oricui, aruncate la gunoi in stare inca buna. Eu am deja multe lucruri acasa si chiar as putea construi ori pune bani deoparte pentru ceva necesar, insa sunt oameni care nu stiu sa se descurce si care nu au bani de pus deoparte… si as vrea sa aiba si ei ceva. Poate ca nu ar sti ce sa faca intr-adevar, cu acele lucruri… poate le-ar strica sau le-ar arunca undeva fara mila… De fapt si lucrurile trebuie iubite.
Cand ti se da un covrig, un fruct, o haina sau pantofi, indiferent cat de vechi si uzati sunt, insa mai poti inca sa ii folosesti, oamenii ar trebui sa multumeasca si sa decida singuri daca pastreaza sau arunca ce li se da.
Sunt si oameni ce nu stiu sa primeasca. Sunt si oameni ce nu stiu sa dea. Sunt oameni care au multe insa nu le merita si altii ce se descurca doar cu un minim necesar pentru a supravietui.
Totusi, mi se pare trist sa stai pe ciment privind in jur si ridicand fructe de jos, caci altceva nu ai…

Mesaj

Esti stresata, nu? Ai multe pe cap, nu stii incotro sa apuci si te vezi singura. Adevarul este ca nu esti, insa tu vrei sa fii. Tu nu stii sa lucrezi in echipa si nici echipa la randu-i nu stie sa lucreze cu tine, tocmai pentru ca nu le permiti. Ai asteptari de la aceasta echipa si cand acestea nu se implinesc, nu stii ce sa faci. Astfel recurgi la planul de rezerva, in mod automat: Voi face totul singura.
Dezamagirea, un sentiment de care crezi ca dai insa e posibil sa ti-l impui.
Planul de a face totul singura nu este un plan de rezerva, de fapt este planul principal, deoarece ai recurs la el in trecut, fortata de imprejurari probabil, si pe atunci era ceva ce nu iti era familiar.. ceva incomod… neplacut. Te-ai obisnuit cu asta iar acum e tot ce stii. 
Nu vrei sa ne dai ceva de facut deoarece nu ai incredere ca o vom face. De fapt, ai incredere ca N o vom face, si oarecum speri sa nu ne facem datoria. Astfel, faci totul singura si esti nemultumita, uneori te plangi. Adevarul e ca iti place sa faci totul, iti place sa fii victima, caci astfel devii zeu. Devii cea care stie cum se fac toate lucrurile, tot ce afli.
Te convingi ca este cel mai bine asa, cea mai rapida si sigura metoda, fie ca vei primi sau nu ceva in final. Poate ca lipsa ta de incredere in noi ca echipa este cea care declanseaza lipsa noastra de efort si interes in ce ne dai de facut… Poate noi nu stim insa simtim.. ceva.. si reactionam.
Oare asta sa fie? Poate noi chiar nu avem timp si motivatie sa facem ce trebuie facut. Poate nu ne pasa. Datoria ta nu este sa rezolvi lucrurile, ci sa ne convingi sa le rezolvam noi, ca echipa. Sa ne coordonezi, sa tragi de noi, sa ne impulsionezi si sa ne faci sa dorim chiar noi realizarea. 
Sa faci totul singura este usor. Nu spune ca nu e adevarat. E metoda cea mai rapida, sigura, logica si usoara. Mai greu este sa ne mobilizezi, asa ca nu o faci. 
Dai vina pe mine pentru ca nu ai pe cine. Nu vei da vina pe tine insati.. si nu o vei da pe echipa, caci ei nu se chinuie, exact cum te asteptai. Esti oarecum multumita ca nu se mai implica, insa eu… eu nu sunt cum te asteptai, eu nu par logica in ce fac. De ce fac ceea ce restul nu fac? De ce ma ‘bag peste tine’? De ce inca imi fac treaba? Nu ar fi mai usor sa renunt si eu? Asta vrei. Sa ramai complet singura. Sa stii una si buna. Mai tare te incurc, nu?

Renunti usor si te lasi afectata repede. Nu spun ca nu este stresant, ca munca nu e multa si adesea fara sens… nu spun ca n-ai viata personala, facultate, iubit, alte lucruri de facut, drumuri, responsabilitati, familie, dar si noi avem.
Si noi suntem oameni, si noi avem multe lucruri de facut dar ne place ce facem acolo, la fel ca tie. Nu muncim la fel de mult. Poate nici daca ne-ai lasa, n-am munci ca tine, cine stie. Dar tot datoria ta este sa ne faci sa ne implicam, sa avem ce face si sa o facem, chiar daca asta inseamna sa ne bati la cap zilnic, sa ne verifici individual, sa dai pedepse ori recompense. Poate nu suntem copii dar apreciem aceleasi lucruri, adesea. Gaseste ceva ce functioneaza. 
Nu e usor. Nu alege ce este usor, nu asta e scopul.
Ai facut totul singura: ce ai invatat? Ce ai implementat nou? Ce sfaturi si siretlicuri poti da mai departe? Ce mostenire lasi? Cu ce e diferit un VP de un OCP? Cu ce e dierit un VP de un OC simplu sau chiar membru?… Nu se vede nimic, nu se simte nimic.  Fa-te vizibila, schimba abordarea, fa ceva nou. Chinuie-te! Nu sa dai o mie de email-uri, ci sa inveti ceva nou, sa descoperi o metoda. Munca de Sisif poate face oricine, chiar si nefiind pe arie. Uneori nu trebuie doar sa fie facut, conteaza CUM e facut. 

Poti avea cele mai frumoase farfurii.
Poti avea tablouri in casa, un covor scump si fara pata. Poti avea un dulap lucios cu haine impaturite. Poti avea scaune frumos sculptate si pereti imepcabil vopsiti.
Poti intinde musafirului o furculita si un cutit fara egal, stralucitoare si curate.
Poti avea un dulap plin cu tacamuri, cu vesela si cu multe borcane cu felurite ingrediente.
Poti servi ceaiul unui om, in cana simpla, cu desene sau cuvinte scrise aspectuos pe exterior. Poti oferi servetele, sare, zahar, pe o masa frumos aranjata cu material fara cusur asupra-i.
Poti avea o usa ce se deschide si se inchide cu mare usurinta, fara zgomot si cu cea mai placuta clanata la vedere ori atingere…
Poti avea geamuri termopane cu perdele din cele mai cautate si cumparate, cu inflorituri si model caruia nimeni nu i-ar nega frumusetea.
Totusi… servind ceaiul unui om, fara un zambet intr-adevar simtit… privind pe geam pentru a vedea mereu acelasi peisaj, purtand mereu aceleasi conversatii la telefonul modern cu toate optiunile posibile, inrosindu-ti pielea in aceeasi pantofi, privind mereu aceeasi pereti cu aceeasi vopsea si deschizand zi dupa zi acelasi dulapuri pentru a gasi aceleasi tacamuri, farfurii si mancaruri… nu vei impresiona pe nimeni…
Vei uita pentru ce traiesti. Iti vei crea propria inchisoare si vei crede ca avand tot ce iti doresti si ai nevoie pentru a supravietui va fi de ajuns.. dar nu este.
Vei muri zi de zi in propria colivie, caci omului nu ii trebuie un loc perfect cu totul la indemana… ci ii trebuie aventura, sentimente si intamplari de orice fel, adesea alaturi de un alt om sau un grup. Ii trebuie companie, povesti, parteneri de aventura la fel de vii ca si el, apa in par si pe piele, fulgi de zapada pe haine ponosite si mere culese din copaci… dar nu ii trebuie o conversatie politicoasa la o masa impecabila cu o cana de ceai fara cusur, in fata unui om ce nu il cunoaste.

Senseless

There once was a little girl, who went out for a walk.
She looked at people and wondered why they always act contrary to what the heart wishes.
The more she saw, the more she couldn’t understand.
One day she got lost.
There was no one around.
She cried out and asked for help, she searched and fell prey to dispair.
She noticed there was nothing more to do.. so she did nothing.
Sitting there, she realized she’d like to eat and sleep.
She saw mere shades of people passing by, so she stretched her hand, sure that one would lift her.
And she sat there, and sat there… until she realized… she could try to get up herself.
She ignored everything around her, she got up and leaned on trees.
The little girl thought she’d never find her way back, but there was nothing left to do but try. She searched the woods and searched the hills, she searched the fields and finally… she found her way.
So proud of this, she went back the next day and found her way back with no mistake.
She did this daily and she ventured everywhere.. until she found another lost boy.
She gladly helped him back and on her way she went again. But he followed the girl.
She didn’t know why he did so and what was she to do.. so she ignored this for some time.
A few days later, the little girl found herself surrounded by boys and girls who were lost and whom she helped… and little boys and girls who found their way back and met her down the road.
She smiled and felt good about herself… so she let it all unfold as it would..
One day, the boys and girls wanted to follow her home.. and she’d refuse.
Another day, they’d wait for her at the entrenace of the woods and at the bottom of hills. She looked round and there were only people. The little girl stayed home one day… and another one.. and then another. The boys and girls would come to her window and call her out, but she’d come one day and rest a week.
One rainy day, the girl went out and she loved the quiet within the rain. Water droplets seemed to make a deaf sound.. always the same and so relaxing.
She sat down by a lake and threw rock in the middle. Her clothes had gotten wet and she’d keep tricking herself into staying ‘just a little bit longer’.
A little boy came and sat down next to her. He smiled and threw a rock into the lake even further than she did. He kept quiet for an hour and then he left.
She threw one more rock, but never did it reach as far as the boy’s, so she got up and went home.
She went to sleep and in the morning, all the little boys and girls were waiting outside for her.
Some would share their toys and play together while others argued over anything.
Sometimes they would call out to her and ask who is right, but she’d never answer.
She spent her time with them, one day after another, playing together and walking.. until some girls wondered what was down another path. They went down the road the little girl didn’t know so well and it never seemed as attractive. The little girls did not come back. The boys would stay with her day and night, until one day…
The boys were playing in the sand and the girl walked down a strange path. She looked around and there were no faces. She was lost again, and she called out each boy’s name.
She even called out the girls’ names… though they were gone. She tripped and fell among the leaves, and she hurt her leg. She waited there and thought, for sure one of the boys would find her… or maybe the girls would be around this strange place.
No one came and she got up again. She walked left and found nothing. She walked right and found more nothing.
She climbed a big rock and tried to see anything that would aid her. A house, a road, some fruit or at least a burrow.
She didn’t see a thing, so she walked.. and walked. She closed her eyes and the girl heard squirrels moving and the wind blowing. She went towards the wind and found a road.
So tired, hurt and hungry as can be, she sat down next to a tree.
A mother wolf came and smelled her face. She sat next to her and did not go, until a man came down the road. The mother wolf left fast and swift, and the man came near.
The little girl woke up and asked him where she is. The man told her the road leads down to a nice, quiet place. It was her house, just a few miles down. Along the road, the little girl asked why he was so tired and sad, and why his voice seemed low and dying.
He said there were many things he saw and heard, and many things that broke his world.
She looked in awe and walked by his side, then suddenly stopped. She asked him to come bend his knees so she can whisper, so down he went. She stared a while and put her little arms around his neck, then said ‘don’t let them inside your head.’
She picked up a flower quickly and gave it to the man, while he smiled and kissed her forehead. He stopped in front of her house and let go of her hand. She asked him where he lived as her hand was left hanging. He said that broken men live nowhere, yet you can find one everywhere. ‘Beware’, he said, ‘hope not to meet, but if you do, just smile and greet’. He left and she stood there, staring at him. She saw his back, his shade.. then nothing. The little boys rushed over and asked her where she’d been. She told them she had gotten lost. A man had found her and brought her back. They all laughed and asked to play, but she looked sad and turned away.
The little girl went to the lake and hoped to meet that boy again. She threw a rock, and then another, but no one came and she went home. She came again day after day. She threw the rocks and they went far, as far as that little boy’s rock on the rainy day.
She looked around and no one saw it.. she tried to tell but no one paid attention.
The boys played and played, but the girl kept throwing rocks.
One day, the little girl tried to get lost… but she knew the woods, and hills and fields… so she sat down and tried to sleep.
She wouldn’t fall asleep at all, the trees and plants seemed pretty tall.
She went back home and drew her friends. She put the papers up on the wall and then the room span once, asleep she’d fall.
The roads seemed all to lead nowhere, the players dead and none to care.

I often wonder how we grow apart.
From ‘best friends‘ to … ‘someone I used to talk to daily and tell all my secrets to‘.
From ‘I trust you, I can say anything‘ to ‘it’s better if I just don’t mention this to him/her‘…
From ‘he/she will call, so I’ll just wait‘ to ‘it doesn’t really matter if they call

Perhaps in time, expectations grow and evolve… or maybe patience and understanding diminish.
It’s not the distance, if one goes to another place…
It’s how we push people away. At some point we give up on having expectations of someone.
Is that even possible? Apparently yes.
See, personally, I have more than one best friend, and I know them well, thus I have certain expectations of them.. not in a bad way.
I expect them to call me, seek me out, ask of me what they always do, be themselves and …have things between us never change.
I also expect to have them receive me at any hour of any day, should I choose to seek them out or call and invite to a walk.
At some point they may get busy, they may choose to go for walks with others and they may slightly change their reaction or attitude due to circumstances and stress.
After a while the things you do together are rather seldom, so, in order to not stalk them and ask many annoying questions as “why didn’t you call”, “why didn’t you come meet me”, “when were you planning to hang out”, we pretend their absence does not affect us.
‘Well, I have things to do and I can deal with all as usual, just on my own’… some of us think. In romanian, there’s a saying: When the fox cannot reach the grapes, she claims they’re sour.
It refers to a situation where one cannot obtain what they wish for, so they claim they don’t need it or it’s bad anyway. A consolation of some sort. But this is just the beginning of pushing the closest people away: by giving up your expectations and trust. It’s a sad thing, isn’t it? Just because of a silly thing like… they didn’t have the time or they forgot to text, or their battery died and they weren’t home.
And we go back to the way things were before we met them… doing regular things and living with oneself, no texting or going out with them, or silly jokes… And then it comes as a shock when they reappear… for them it was just a normal day, of a normal week, nothing changed.. and it comes as a shock to them as well that… it seems something changed for you.
‘Let me buy you something.’ ‘No, thank you, I’m good.’ ‘I used to buy you things… is everything ok?’  ‘Sure, why wouldn’t it be? I’m fine, thanks.’  Silly things like these, it just happens… and then you have to switch back to…getting used to them being around again…
You wouldn’t want them to feel bad… because you still care, of course. But it’s somewhat confusing to switch back to that because you also fear they may disappear again… ‘Where are we going?’ ‘I’m walking you to the path where we usually say goodbye and split up.’ ‘Oh, right, sorry…’.

Those awkward moments where you wonder if it was even a good idea to give up on expecting them to call and be there, as always… you even feel bad for not having faith they’ll return sooner or later. And you realize it’s only normal for life to throw things at them, and become chaos for a while or make them distracted, it should be expected, it happens to you too. You also understand that they have to deal with some things on their own, and you have to patiently stand by and wait.
While others worry about how to pay bills, get booze and have girls sleep with them, not be late for work in order to get money to fix the car, and so on… Funny.
But all these are your thoughts and feelings and it would be rather unfair and unpleasant for another to notice, so you shouldn’t show.
Am I right…?