So much can be said, on various tangents or levels, about this fine piece you wrote, Jonathan.  Where I went was “the bondage to self,”  my beloved lockup for far too many years (but in reality, just enough).

When I was in Hospice training during the early 90s, I adopted the belief of having no expectations of others.  This seemed a highly evolved stance to take and appeared to suit as well the principles of AA. With seven years of sobriety under my belt, I at least had the intellectual capacity to see where expectations of justice, fairness, or anything else placed on others was the root of much inner conflict and outer strife.  “turning the other cheek” was for people who had such a profound understanding of the esoteric ways of spirit.  Too funny.

It also became clear at that time that more harmed was been done by those who took offense than those who gave it, at least as I reviewed my life and made a cursory scan at the world's history.  Such noble thinking had me feel, at that time, just a few watts short of eclat enlightenment; a few more amps of such insights and I was there.

At the last school lunch before Spring Break, a friend was regaling our group about her expectations for her return to Ojai, what a great reception and good time she would have.  “Poor dear,” I thought, “so spiritually primitive.” (Horrors of horrors, my actual reflection.)  

I listened only for a break, just biding my time til when I could take her aside and warn her of her pending folly.  Then grace tapped me on the shoulder and I turned, looking deep into my soul: the light was on in the basement.  What I saw shocked and saddened me.  

I had been hiding behind this blind of “no expectations” because of the fear and conviction that I was both unlovable and unacceptable; there could never be such an exuberant welcome for the likes of me.  I was merely tolerated, as long as I stayed in my lowly place and made no waves.  

Twenty years or so later, the story of this woman's stand for her dignity, against what I perceive of as great doubt and perhaps real terror, gives me great joy. And Rosa Parks is to me a great saint.

 What a gift you helped her to realize.  Too few in the Church recognize this “shadow self,” being more concerned with not sinning.  Thank you.