Writer's Block

My son's cat, a big white cat (8 kg ) named Mario, is a special case. 

He's like a Great Dane among the cats, and yet he has his fears... 

He's afraid of most men.  It's because of this habit that the vet gave the cat to my family 3 years ago. My son was 10, so my household was considered 'manless'.  Only an occasional visit from my brother disturbed the tranquility. It took Mario over a year to get used to my brother.

Apart from this fear of human men, Mario has an eating disorder and a drinking problem!

The cat's afraid of drinking water from a bowl, He can't see the level of the water and of course it varies at times. I've seen him stick his head in too deep. Causing him to inhale water through his nose and causing panic..  

However, Mario came up with a solution, single-handedly: he pushes his bowl across the floor with one paw. At one fell swoop. It makes the water dance  -and  me run for a towel.   When the movement of the water is somewhat subdued and regular, he looks for the surface by the changing reflection of the light. He peers and peers into his bowl and suddenly starts to drink. Without dipping his nose in!

My son witnessed the birth of the eating 'disorder'. When Mario was with us only a couple of days he almost choked on one of his cat cookies. He was rescued by my son. 

I didn't know that. But I noticed some odd behaviour.... whenever I came out of the bathroom, Mario would be sitting close to the door. On seeing me, he'd rise and walk to 'his' room, mewing. Looking over his shoulder to check if I was following him. At his bowl with cookies he would stop, mew and check again if I were there and only then he would start to eat. The amount of cookies in the bowl hinted that he hadn't eaten them all day.  As if he had been waiting for someone to be present when he ate. 

When my son and I 'compared notes' we could only conlcude that Mario is afraid of choking on his cookies and therefore wants one of us to be present when he eats them.

Don't tell me that animals can't think. This cat came up with solutions for his own fears. He even knew how to recruit others to help him. A completely different species. 

Trust 2: Prerequisites

In the line “he trusts her” the he is the giver of trust and she is at the receiving end. If she is really rotten and selfish, he is crazy to trust her. But what if she's honest, loyal, caring? And he still doesn't trust her completely? She gets out of her way to prove her trustworthiness, but at the slightest silence, he panics or gets angry: “She doesn't like me anymore. We're no longer friends.” She could become a slave, disloyal to herself, trying to comply and pacify him the moments when his Trust gives out. Or she might give up the friendship. Pity, it could have been so nice.

What's wrong here? Why is he not trusting someone with lots of loyalty? The problem clearly lies within the Giver, in the him of our example.

1. Is it the way he looks at others?
2. Is it what he imagines others will think of him?

The first perspective is about experience. When bad experiences outweigh positive ones, it becomes harder to trust a normal loyal person. That is what bitterness can do. These experiences can come from one's own relationships, or from witnessing the relationships of others. Parents, siblings, colleagues.

The second perspective has to do with self image or self esteem. One can have too little of it (Low Self Esteem, LSE), a healthy amount (High Self Esteem, HSE) or too much (which I call Excessive Self Esteem, ESE). The latter enters the field of narcism, which I don't want to discuss here.

Now what did I say about Trusting? It's a freely chosen dependency, counting on the other party's loyalty. In every type of relationship.

Oooh, dependency . Is it about a healthy dependency or a sick one? Can one pull out when necessary, or does ones whole life depend on it? We'll see.

I'll limit my post to comparing people with low self esteem and high self esteem, in the way they trust a normal, trustworthy, partner. 

Someone with low self esteem thinks that nobody likes him. People may say they do. But they are either lying or will change their minds soon.Which is either stupid or arrogant, by the way: one cannot know what the other thinks

In a relationship, the person with LSE will have his Trust torn up by doubts very often. He needs a lot of reassurance.

On the other hand, the same person may think he needs to buy himself into the relationship. Because he believes that he himself is worthless and only his material assets - money, gifts-  are appreciated. 
Poor LSE-er: the gifts may become more than a partner will feel comfortable with. 
 

Since LSE has its effect on every type of relationship, the person with LSE probably is faltering through life. The new relationship, be that friendship or a love relationship, becomes the One thing, getting all of the focus. Not only because he has nothing better going on. Also because being in a relationship increases his value. The relationship determines the value of his entire life. A sick dependency is coming up. So much , that the person with LSE might accept disloyalty from the partner, even pick himself bad partners. The danger of negative experiences lurks around.

Someone with high self esteem probably has a busy life, with many friends and interests. A love relationship or a new friendship is a beautiful addition to that life, but it is not everything. So a person with HSE will not easily end up in a sick dependency. Neither will a person with HSE accept disloyalty.

Someone with high self esteem knows that he is likeable, loveable. He is free to reject relationships, because others are waiting around the corner.

Since a person with a positive self image realises that he is important to others, prolonged silence of a (business) partner does not shatter his trust. Neither does a person with HSE have the compulsion to buy himself into a relationship, so no embarrassing showers of attention and gifts.

If the partner is ditto, there's a healthy ground for the relationship to evolve. It'll become strong and transparent, like a diamond.

When it comes to gathering experience: people with low self esteem have a higher risk of negative experiences. On the other hand, they can also remain isolated for a long time, prolonging their naivety.

When you have HSE, your chances of good experiences are better.

Now there we have the switch of the permanently burning lamp: the more you appreciate yourself, the more you know that others like you too. That makes it easier to trust someone: there's little or no doubt at the moments that there is no 'prove' from the partner. You don't fall into thinking 'She doesn't like me anymore'.

Simply because you believe in yourself. And because this 'system' often renders positive experiences, it reinforces itself. 

 Do you have a negative self image?  Take another look at yourself!

Mind you: LSE can be cured, so no worries. 
You may even cure yourself, by living your life, trying new things, taking risks of banging your nose once in a while … and cherish every tiny positive result.

If you think you're not worth that try, do it for others. Because you obviously can't trust -and love- someone else well enough, if you have a negative self image. Love thy neighbour as you love yourself, right?

Trust 1: Definition

Five letters, such a tiny word. So essential to life. 
Do you really know what Trust is? What it is and what it takes?
Having nothing better to do travelling from my hometown to my training, I decided to trust the crowd of the morning rush hour -that they would not step on me, not read my notes over my shoulder nor pick my pockets- and see if I could figure out why trust comes easy to some and so hard to others. 
Thinking while writing, not knowing where I will end up is what I like most.  Actually: at one point I ended up at a wrong  station, having forgotten to change trains at an earlier  station 
Forgive me if I make wrong linguistic conclusions... I'm not a native english speaker. Sesame Street and MASH were my teachers.


What is Trust?
Trust in God, trust your friends, trust yourself. Trustworthy, untrustworthy.

If you don't have enough Trust in your body, could you go to the general store and buy some? How would that affect your life?
"Goodday sir."
- "Morning ma'am."
- "I'd like to buy some trust."
- "Here you are lady."
I pay the price mentioned. not that I trust the owner in mentioning a fair price. I just don't bargain because I believe that I'm not going to win anyway.

Are believing and trusting the same? I think they're close, they're brothers. But no twins (sorry if I insult twins with that). 'I believe you' or 'I believe in you' is different from 'I trust you'. But how? Please say it again, feel it for yourself.


There seems to be a dependency or cooperation in Trusting someone, that is not necessarily present in Believing. Or Believing is more momentary, more superficial.
Years ago, a colleague said if I needed to talk, I could call him any time, even in the middle of the night. I believed he meant it. At the moment he said it.  But I never made use of the offer. Because he might have forgotten his promise or might feel bad himself, which would render him unable to stick to his promise.
I didn't Believe In him. His strength, his perseverance, his constancy.
No...we're not covering Trust with this example. Yet... I think now that Believing In comes closer to Trust than plain Believing.


Maybe the difference is in the cooperation? Another experiment, to test it.
   1. Newly wed wife says to her husband, who is on his way to a job interview: "..."
   2. Newly wed wife says to her husband, who is about to hunt for a house for the two of them: "..."

What to enter on the dots?
   A. Go ahead, I trust you.
   B. Go ahead, I believe in you

I believe Trust is applicable to situation 2. There is a dependency. The wife -voluntarily- depends on her husband for the choice of their new home. Does she place her trust in his capability or in his respect, his love for her? His loyalty?  What if he buys a house she doesn't like, or which turns out to be a cat in the bag?

I think that is mainly a choice. Or a matter of character, personal beliefs.  [I could use the word convictions here, but then the question arises: are we convicted to our convictions or do we choose them?]
The more loving the woman is, the least interested she's in the outcome. There's room for forgiveness. So what, if her partner made a mistake?  As long as his intentions were aimed at the welfare of both of them.
Suppose on the other hand, he bought a house solely based on his own taste. In complete disregard of his wife's interests and taste? Now that would be disloyal. His wife's trust has been betrayed.

So maybe it is this simple:

I believe you  =  I know you're honest (right now)

I believe in you  =  I know you're capable

I trust you  =  I know you're loyal

Three virtues, I must say. Of which loyalty is the most important. I believe.

Ready while you are waiting

Inspired by Parker and Larry. 

“Darling, where are you going?” In spite of the opening word, the intonation was snappy. Doreen had laid out her plans during breakfast. This was to be a day full of efficiency. Mike's own plans were squeezed in meticulously, so he could get what he needed and accompany his wife and sister-in-law on their sight seeing and shopping tour. Doreen, by herself, was a guarantee for a busy day. But when her sister from Italy stayed over for her annual visit, the pace would become deadly.

This morning the sisters had come up with a plan that he just couldn't refuse. As if he needed that new laptop today of all days. Hah!

Behind his wife's back he had slipped his favorite, fat, novel into his rucksack. Now he was standing at the backdoor, the keys of his bicycle dangling between his fingers. “Uhm, I saw that my driver's licence needs to be renewed soon. So I was going to have my photo taken. You wouldn't want me to be without a driver's licence, would you?” Check!

Doreen looked doubtful, doing some mental arithmetic. Then she gave in. “Good. My sister is getting dressed and doing her nails for our outing. So if you hurry, you can be back before she's finished.” Had he heard right? Was she tipping over her king?

The woman sighed dramatically. “I was hoping that you'd go to the groceries, the drugstore and pick up a parcel from the post office.” Now she tilted her head and looked helpless.

“Sorry Doreen.” Too late, she was not turning her resignation into a drawn game. “I don't have time. I'm going on my bike.” He opened the back door and walked out as quick as he could.

– “Your bike? Michael, are you crazy? The car will be ...”

– No honey, not now.” With that he unlocked his bicycle and went off.

The october air was quite chilly, but a hat and an upturned collar could do wonders.

He was going to have his picture taken. At this hour he would probably be the only customer so it wouldn't take too long. On his way back … he would treat himself to a nice cup of strong coffee in the early bird's café 'The Sleepy Rooster'. There he would read his favorite scene. He had read the book in his backpack three times already. Each and every turn, his lovely wife had managed to botch up the reading of the epic scene. Mike was determined to read it undisturbed today.

On his way to the photo shop, Mike kept on mulling over his wife habits. Whenever he came up with a plan, she took action, accomplishing the task in less than no time. Everyone around him admired it and informed him how lucky he was to have such a wife. Because he... he was so indecisive, so phlegmatic She must be a great support ot him.

What about letting plans ripen? What about looking at designs from different angles, in different moods? And why not wait a while to see if something new wells up? How often had he perceived a great idea while waiting. For instance that time in the supermarket. He allowed two customers to take place in the line right in front of him, so he had more time to think out a design. If they'd been carrying only one item, Doreen might have accepted it. She was sharp about correct social behavior. But one customer had been hoarding up as if he was going to camp out in the desert, the other obviously was preparing for a tremendous barbecue with beer to flow. Sotto voce Doreen had given him a piece of her mind. So cutting that his pensive mood was over and he actually regretted his gesture.

Mike turned down his collar with one hand. The biking made his blood flow well. He felt like a soldier. On a mission to practise and defend the Art of Waiting.

Three more blocks and he'd be at the photoshop. On the next block was The Sleepy Rooster. As Mike got near to it he casted an anticipating glance at it's façade. “What?!” He squeezed his handbreaks. There was a 'closed' sign on the door. And a note below. “Due to a lack of customers the rooster will be asleep for ever.” This was a blow. Such a charming place, his hide out, gone. Where could he go now to read, undisturbed by wives and in-laws ? He resumed his journey entertaining unlawful thoughts. When our man reached the photographer's store, he was full of rage inside, ready to start an argument with whoever would thwart him first.

“Goodmorning. What can I do for you, sir?” The owner, a hard working man from India, beamed at him. While Mike formulated his request his eye fell on a banner on the wall behind the counter. 'Ready while you are waiting.' Well well, so this was the place to be. That should have been simple irony, but it became a challenge.

After the picture was taken, Mike stayed seated where he was. The photographer threw him a doubtful glance, raising his eyebrows. Then he shrugged and walked away. He had to develope the photo, print it and dry it with a hairdryer in the shortest period possible. No time to waste, if he was to stay in this line of business. Mike took his book out of his backpack and opened it. What a nice quiet little shop this was. The right place for his quest. With a sigh of content he started to read. The photographer had not yet closed the door to his work area. He heard the sigh saw the thick novel. It made him call out to reassure his customer, “Dear sir, it really won't take long. I'll have your photo's ready in no time.”

“Don't worry, man. I'm in no hurry.” was the reply. Now Mike had to read his line again.

The alarm of the door chimed, announcing a second customer. “I'll be right with you,” the owner called, poking his head through the door opening.

“Why don't you help this man first?” Mike suggested.

Why not, the owner went over to the counter and asked his opening question. Delighted Mike started on his favorite scene. The other customer had only one question. After getting the information he was after he left the store. The owner picked up Mike's photo's again and dryed them with the blower. “Your photos are ready sir.”

“Just put them on the counter. This won't take long.”

Annoyed, but also a little troubled, the photographer walked over to Mike. “Please sir. Don't tell me you plan to finish your book here?”

“Oh no”, Michael smiled, “just my favourite scene. Then I'll be off.” If Mike expected some understanding, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

“No sir.” The shop owner pulled the book from his customer hand and shut it with a snap. Then he handed it back to our dismayed looking friend. “This is not a waiting room.”

“Aha!” Mike shot up from his seat, pulled the owner to his counter. “Then what, pray tell, does thát say?” He pointed at the banner.

The owner read it out loud.

“Precisely. While you are waiting.”

Now the owner felt cornered. “We used to send our customers out to shop. They picked up their photos later. Now it's developed so fast, they can wait in my store.” Mike argued that that was exactly what he had been doing. What was wrong about reading a book while waiting? Secretly the dark man vowed he'd remove the banner as soon as this strange client had left. “Your behavior is simply odd, sir. Nobody likes waiting. And you … you … you are waiting even while your photos are ready.”

“I'm glad you agree with me.” Mike took advantage of the verbal confusion and opened his book again. Just then the doorbel chimed once more. In sailed a pram with a wailing baby, pushed by a seemingly stone deaf mother. Four other children age three and up, trailed in after her.

Mike's eyes grew large. In a second the shop had turned from a silent oasis to a colony of bickering gulls. He put his novel in his backpack in an instance and drew out his wallet in exchange. “How much?”

The owner didn't waste a moment and named the price. For the first time in his life he was glad to see mrs. Moreno and her band of fallen angels enter his shop.

Outside Mike searched his pockets for the keys of his bicycle. If he hurried home, he thought, he might read a bit in the shed. Or he could lock himself in the bathroom. Nah, who was he kid... his eyes fell on his tyres. Some mindless joker had stolen the valves and the tyres were flat. Mike finally resigned himself to not reading his beloved scene today. He started out for the nearest busstop, wondering if this day could get any worse. “If there is a God” he thought, “then he is obviously on holiday today. Maybe hiding from His in-laws.” He looked up at the electronic sign. His bus was delayed 20 minutes at least. Mike turned up his collar against the cold. And with a thankful smile he reached for his book.

JoAnne Lakefield

Oct. 2011