Last week I wrote about ‘praise’ - this week, I’d like to deal with it’s cousin ‘expectation’.
That voice that comes from inside us, telling us not to even bother trying, because we’re just no good at it; telling us we are and always have been hopeless at maths, spelling, art or whatever - that voice came from somewhere.
I bet that if you relate to that, you also know where and when that voice started for you. You know which teacher told you you couldn’t draw, which test you failed or what event exposed your weakness.
I’m not much of a one for televisual talent competitions, but I watch them now and again (so shoot me!). There always seems to be a lot of talk about confidence from the competitors, and here as in day to day life, it is always viewed as a positive thing. However, I think something vital is being missed.
Are you on Facebook? How old are you and those you connect with most often? There has been a recent slew of press articles about the rise in the average age of Facebook users and the projected exodus of over 3 million under-25s in the UK and US this year.
Reading interviews with young people who are now turning to alternative platforms, I was reminded of a past experience whilst working in Scotland many years ago.
Have you heard about the recent publishing phenomenon ‘The Lost Words’?
The authors wanted to create a beautiful book to revive once-common words, especially those dealing with nature, excised from the Oxford Junior Dictionary - and it’s really taken off. All over the UK, adults are raising funds to gift copies of the book to schools, including every Primary, Secondary and Special School in Scotland.
It’s a combination of glorious illustrations and poems that the authors liken to spells.
There are some difficult lessons to be learned about human relationships during a lifetime, and we have to deal with some of the toughest ones in our tenderest years.
A friend of mine has a ten year old daughter who is presently going through the pain of a group of three friends splitting up, into one pair of best mates and one abandoned loner. My friend’s little girl is the one who’s been kicked out. I feel for her, I really do, I remember the same thing happening to me when I was eleven - that extra year giving no extra buffer - and I didn’t have to contend with social media and a world of more sophisticated methods to make a person feel isolated. I also feel for my friend.