🎵 Guys, you have to believe in miracles... Someday on an early spring morning... I don’t like songs like this anymore. But during my school years, in the camps they sang only like that. Why are these ever? Let's take the unicorn flair off this topic and, from the point of view of the functioning of the psyche, analyze the expectation into causes and consequences. In short, the truth is that sometimes it hurts so much (and it hurts for a long time) that in order not to go away go crazy or not die (which is equally disadvantageous for the brain), this very brain builds a defense of expectation. Be patient a little longer, we will show you the way... This is the hope that the pain (hell) will end and the dawn will come. She is really needed when you need to go through something difficult - several years of war or life under the same roof with those who inflict wounds (war under the banner “we have a normal family, we just drink, beat, yell”). Assol waited after so many years . And yet this is a fairy tale. It nourishes the hopes of those who choose to wait. Everyone chooses their own fairy tale. Someone, in an apron smeared with ash, is thinking about balls and the prince and is waiting for the fairy. Someone looks for white feathers on their wings and waits for another flock. Some people are just waiting. AND DOES NOTHING. You can wait. And sometimes it’s even necessary. If you don’t deceive yourself, hiding the pain of abandonment and loneliness behind waiting. Real waiting does not cancel life. You can remember who promised to return, and at the same time find joy in every day. Even waiters can move :) Waiting is not living. This is to put life on pause, to freeze. Throw a part of yourself - a significant one - into the future in the hope that someday you will get there, that one day this hell will end. Waiting is a little death. When the meaning of life is to wait, this is a contradiction. The meaning of life becomes not to live. The most offensive thing is that many, especially women, inherited this habit of waiting from their great-grandmothers and grandmothers, who waited for their fathers, husbands, and sons from the war. And many did not wait. Yes, many did not wait, but not all of them stopped believing and waiting. For this, we can say a special thank you to Konstantin Simonov. In his poem, he manifested the connection: if you wait, I will return. Where's the logic, oh! “By your waiting you saved me...” This is not true. Because many were waiting, but not everyone was waiting. Another ingredient is needed: love, faith, luck... But definitely not waiting. Do you know about the fate of actress Valentina Serova - the one to whom Simonov dedicated the poem “Wait for Me”? There is something to think about. Simonov insisted that his wife give up the child from a previous marriage to an orphanage (he died at the age of 36 as an alcoholic). They themselves divorced. After the divorce, Simonov removed Valentina’s name everywhere in his collections. Their daughter was raised by Valentina’s mother, and she was forbidden to see the child. The actress died of alcoholism at 57 years old. The most famous poem of the war years?.. This is how art works. Those who did not stop waiting... Why did they do it? This is not about bright hope, but about a desperately demanding “Come back! I can’t live without you!” It was very difficult for them. Because hunger, cold, war or post-war devastation. Because to survive, you need to try very hard. And without a man it was hard even before the war. “When it’s so hard, you can only hope that he will return and the hard thing will end.” If you look at this from the point of view of the internal parts, there is enormous pain. There is a part that is unbearable. Lonely, maybe. She not only lacks a father or a husband, she has very few resources. To prevent this pain from drowning a person, the psyche forms a protective structure. As if it builds a barrier between a person and his pain. And these hopes and expectations become bricks, from which, day after day, the one who waits raises a stone wall.🎵 Hope is my earthly compass... We were taught that hope is something bright and right. And once upon a time, hope was truly the only way out. Not only during the war. When it hurts too much, hope is like a ray that points to the future: wait, one day the sun will come out. In order not to give up, not to fall, not to lose our minds, we can feed on hopes. If these)