Unexpectedness

It has to be one of the most difficult things to deal with in the world. We are always told to expect the unexpected, but how exactly do we do that? Are we supposed to be constantly monitoring everyone and everything around us? What sort of unexpected things are we supposed to expect: death, destruction or joy, fortune and success? If we are always trying to figure out the unexpected, then we don’t really have a hold over the present, as we should—“Live in the present,” as they say. Lately, a number of unexpected things have been happening—some good, some bad. I’ll discuss a few of them.

I just got back from an unexpected trip to Chicago. We have some family friends, who we haven’t seen in more than a year. The last time we did see them, at a mutual family friend’s wedding, they both seemed fine and in good spirits and health. Last month, we got a phone call that the husband of this couple had been diagnosed with renal carcinoma, a fairly rare form of cancer. My parents spoke with his wife a few times after we heard about the situation. On October 9th, he was rushed to the hospital and on October 22nd, he died. My parents and I went to Chicago to visit his wife and his children. My dad actually grew up close to her family and they lived down the street from my dad’s boyhood home. When we went to her house, there was a lot of reminiscing and discussion about old friends and family members. Apparently, the last thing my parents remember this woman’s husband saying was “I’m not going to even talk to you anymore, if you don’t come to visit us.” His words were unfortunately quite prophetic because they didn’t talk to him again.

A positive unexpected thing that happened to me since I moved to Columbus was making new friends—two of them, in fact. I was not expecting that in the slightest; I even hoped that since I had enough old friends in the Columbus area that I wouldn’t even necessarily “need” to make new friends because I could rely on the old ones for the majority of my social needs. I have gotten the chance to reconnect with some old friends and it’s really been fantastic. Some friendships have basically picked up where they left off, from more than ten years ago, while some of the others go back to childhood. My new friends have been quite a delight though. It’s always fun having new friends just because one gets the opportunity to craft one’s own narrative of oneself. They haven’t heard all of my stories and are eager to learn more about me and vice-versa. Plus, since we share an occupation, it’s easy for us to relate to one another and the daily trials and tribulations of teaching undergraduates. I feel lucky that I can still make new friends. Sometimes, it’s easy to underestimate one’s ability to do that, especially since, in my case, it had been about six years since I really HAD to make new friends. Not that I hadn’t picked up a few along the way, but most of them were friends of friends with whom I really enjoyed spending time. My new friends like me for me—a positive, unexpected thing.

I have also been learning a lot of new things about myself as of late—fairly profound things that sound silly when written out, but some neat stuff, nevertheless. Part of me just assumed that since I am very self-reflective and notably in tune with myself that I had really discovered all there was to know about me. Completely utterly unexpected circumstances and conversations brought a number of things to the fore and I am glad to have had such edifying experiences.

With regard to school-related incidents, I had another interesting, unexpected conversation with a student of mine. For those of you following along at home, this is the same student from my last blog. Here’s a rough recapitulation of our conversation:

STUDENT: What do you think about beanbag chairs?

ME: I like beanbag chairs.

STUDENT: Can I bring in a beanbag chair?

ME: No, you can’t.

STUDENT: What if I brought in one for everyone in class? How many people are there?

ME: There are 20 students in class, and you would have to bring in one for me, so a total of 21 beanbag chairs.

STUDENT: Okay, I get paid soon, so I’ll do it. The only problem is how I’m going to get all those beanbag chairs in my Camaro.

ME: That sounds like a bad joke: How many bean bag chairs can you fit into a Camaro?

My other students were a bit incredulous during this conversation which took place at the beginning of class, and did not interfere with the actual teaching of class. One student asked if I was really going to allow the student to bring in bean bag chairs for the whole class. I answered that I really didn’t see what the problem was: “It’s difficult enough to get kids to do anything, so if someone is going to take the initiative to come up with an idea, think about how to accomplish it and then actually execute it, my job is done.” We had another conversation regarding the bean bag chairs last week and a truck has been volunteered to haul the bean bag chairs to class, so we’ll see what happens. I will keep you updated on the possible change in furniture in my classroom.

There’s one venue where the common sense sayings clash when it comes to unexpectedness. With regard to love and relationships and the like, people always say that it springs up “When you are least expecting it,” but then if I am trying to “expect the unexpected,” what happens? Do they cancel each other out? Is that why my love life is the way it is?

Any thoughts?