Commanding attention

I was browsing through my gmails in order to do some cleaning and I found one auto-email of a comment on my blog from 7 years ago. Yeah, I only kept the positive ones. And I realized there is some essence in it that I didn’t extract properly at the receiving time.. long story short, this is the first time I consciously read the term of “commanding attention”. I heard this before in the expression “commanding respect”, but most often we hear “demanding attention/respect/etc”. Everybody demands something.

I wish parents would treat children more like humans than like animals. Teaching them to understand the reasons why they are doing the things and not to simply obey orders. For example, when you are little very seldom adults are explaining things to you, either believing that you don’t understand anyway either because they simply don’t care about your needs. But most often because they actually don’t want you to understand. The dumber you are, the easier it is for them to control you. Most of them believe that if they put food on the table and you have a warm and clean house then you have everything. “You ungrateful brat!”

I wish to go back in time and properly raise and educate myself, before I get to make all sort of stupid mistakes in the department of human-emotional interactions. Yes, I hate losing. I cannot conceive losing, actually. Because, in some way, for me, losing means dying. I realized this trait of mine at a very young age, but it took me two decades to learn how to properly control it, because nobody ever explained me that there is no absolute losing in this reality. That, being so many perspectives to be seen, in any circumstance, you may never really lose anything, even if you don’t always get what you want. And I’m not saying that you should focus your attention on the things that you already have, I’m saying that you should go beyond of yourself and see the connectedness that exists between each of us and by wishing to possess something (or even someone, for that matter) you only create redundancy.

On a different train… I wanted to write that I don’t remember ever having my parents read me a bedtime story. Or any story for that matter. But they would always expect me to be proficient at reading. And have perfect calligraphy, but no one would ever teach me or have patience with me mastering it. My mom would only tear the page from my homework notebook and force me to do it all over again from the beginning, between tears. Then she would shame me because my poor notebook had only few pages left. Crazy times… Yes, I grew up in some weird times, in a small city, just when people were starting to wake up after communism.

I remember one time, I was around 12, I had to go to one of my friends’ birthday party and my mom came home from work with some package, I remember how she gave it to me to hold it, while she was closing the garage gates. She bought a book as the gift I should offer to my friend, a girl who was very much into books. But I didn’t. I kept it for myself and I read it. It was something about a boy gazing at the Moon. Probably the first book I ever read out of pleasure. I loved it! (later edit: I found it!! it was “Casa de langa luna” Nicolae Mihai). In the so-called “library”, in my house, which was actually just a small shelf, there were only botanic, butterflies, almanacs from the communism time, some knitting and crocheting guides and a Romanian language Dictionary, only vol 1: from A to M. 🙂

I literally grew up with the TV, whether mexican, argentinian, columbian, venezuelan, peruvian actors, they were all my family, aside from the Camden family, Sam Beckett and Buffy. Such a big family! At one point, when I was 13 or 14, my dad was very surprised when he noticed I understand Spanish and English, without having to read the subtitles, without having taken any single lesson. I had 2 years of private classes of French, though, in my primary school, maybe those helped, who knows..

I remember when, from some savings from my birthday or from singing Christmas carols in the neighborhood, I bought my first conversation guide for Spanish language and I was reading it loudly in the house. It felt so weird, yet so exciting, when I noticed that Spanish from Spain is a bit different. That’s when I started to forget all the French.. And then highschool came.. 4 years of private tutoring for German language. Dreadful. 😀 Then I had forgotten almost all German during university, because we had only 1 class per week and the only things we were doing were prepositions and conjunctions. So I had to start private classes at Goethe, intense group for 1 year, 3 times a week, and then go for the certificate exam.

Anyhow, in the middle of my 3rd year, when I applied for that Erasmus scholarship in Spain and I passed the language test and the interview, I felt I won the greatest award of my life, finally doing what I ever wanted to do. But maybe I was just lucky. Nonetheless, when I packed my suitcase and flew for the first time ever, alone, for 1 Semester in Spain, I was in Heaven. Most exciting 5 months of my life.

And when I came to Czech Republic, I had some interviews only by the phone, in English and German. It’s been 4 & 1/2 years from then. On some way it feels like it was yesterday, on some way it feels like I have never left, even if, now, I barely speak in my native language few times per week, on Skype, with my mom or with my direct manager at work. I think I even speak Romanian more in my dreams now, than in my awaken life. Yeah, maybe I’m lucky.

Where was I? A, I started writing about commanding attention. Funny. I remember there was a students-club in my city and they were hosting all sorts of classes for free: informatics, chemistry, gymnastics, tailory, badminton, chess, painting.. Except for gymnastics – which I probably wanted to try the most – I tried all the ones from above. I even went for few times also to judo. And for a while I was even part of some choir in my secondary school. I remember the only class I actually finished was the tailory one, when we had a fashion show and I was.. the prince! I had only done the cape and the crown in that class, because I had signed in somewhere in the middle of the module, but my mom knitted for me an interesting suit from some old scarfs… now I know why this one was the only one I finished: it was the only one in which also my mom took interest.. she was knitting clothes to my dolls, though, when I was very little and she was in a good mood.

Actually I wanted to write about me never losing. Because I’m so volatile in my wishes that I’m adapting them, just floating along with life. Whom am I kidding? Losing is a part of life. It’s unavoidable. You need to pass through this experience also, in order to feel that you have truly lived. Or loved. What I’m actually trying to write is that I’m happy just from the mere experience of participating in the game.

Still, I was two times told, coming from the same person, when I was least expecting it, that I’m selfish/not being altruistic. Perhaps the first time he was right, perhaps, at the beginning, I was interested/involved only for my own emotional gratification. But the second time, 2 years and something later, it really hurt. It hurt because… because sometimes you need also to lose… to feel that you’re dying. To pack your bags and leave again, this time forever.

“Yo no pido nada más, que estar feliz y tu lo estas y sentirte bien,
Aunque no sepas quien, quien te quiere sin más por encima del bien y del mal.” (Alguien soy yo)

How cheesy. :)) Ok, I’ll write more about commanding attention, later on, when I will actually know how to properly do it.

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