We get them when we’re young. They are sort of like standards. And depending how you’re raised, they become a bar in our minds of how things are supposed to be. They begin quite simply…. When you come downstairs at dinner time, will your parent have food for you, or will you forage for food alone? It’s good to not always have food waiting, that way you know what it feels like to have to find it for yourself. On a side note, I’m not proving this fact well for my children. And it could be why I’m apprehensive for my son to go to college on Monday. I’ve missed very little meals for him. Will he be able to forage alone?
Back to expectations…They get more complicated the older you get, from food to the treatment of others. Like when you visit the real world. You know, the one your mom isn’t standing at every crossroad, trying to fix it in your favor. If you’re fortunate enough to have a mom like this. Or a dad. Lest we forget them. So, you go out with a big ol’smile, expecting a lot. Maybe a job. But no. Sorry, you have no experience. You can’t get a job without experience. But how does one get experience without getting a first job? Glad no one had an expectation that would work out. Or this…you expect your spouse or friend will act a certain way about something and they end up acting the complete opposite–or in my head as I like to call it, the wrong way. Burst goes the balloon of expectations. And after a few dozen times of getting this expectation blow back, you stop expecting. Now you feel good. No more expecting something that proves never to be. The world of how you feel it should be is now lifted from your back. But now you feel let down. Not only aren’t you victim to the let-down scene anymore, but you give up hope that people will ever act the way they should…with compassion and empathy. But the haunting questions remains: If we have no faith something will work out, then why should it? On the flip side: if we leave our hearts on our sleeves, expecting the best…they will keep bleeding out when the boom of the crash comes down.
The reason for my rant is quite simply this: I tell myself I’m not going to have an expectation about something; let the chips fall where they may. I’m not expecting anything. Nothing. Then I find a speck of hope for humankind in the back pocket of my jeans. There with the lint and other threads long forgotten are, hidden from light. And it trips me up. “What the heck are you doing here, little expectation? Don’t you know you are a foe to peace and harmony? Don’t you know you are the very thing that gets me riled up and spouting off when the thing I have hope for doesn’t go through as planned in my head? Shew…go away.”
But doesn’t having expectations and living up to a standard go hand in hand? Should we give up on possessing expectations or plan better on who we reserve the expectation for? Deep thoughts….