Expectations are tricky. They seem like goals, but they can be more draining than helpful when unmet. From a young age, I didn’t trust expectations, as the people in charge of me were bigger, more powerful, and barely noticed my existence.
Expectations were a shell game where what I needed or wanted was forever hidden, only revealed when I was too tired to play anymore.
As a mom, my expectations were wrapped up in my kids’ happy home life. Stability and fun ruled the day, and consistency guided every action. I made my kids’ home as different from my parents' home as possible.
All the expectations I craved as a little one were played out for MY little ones. But they’re grown and gone, so what now?
I can no longer push an agenda of doing and striving at any cost, because my body won’t have it. I’ve spent six of the last nine weeks in bed because “pushing through” no longer works. It’s imperative to decipher what does.
When I take all the energy I use to fuel expectations and turn it towards acceptance instead, life is less jagged. I notice the kindness of people around me, even when the circumstances are frustrating. I notice the beauty in human difficulties.
Because it’s not that either everything is going according to plan and all is well OR everything is effed up and all is terrible. It can be everything is effed up and all is well.
When my husband got the flu after traveling cross-country for a keenly anticipated vacation, causing us both to miss the bucket list experience of playing with wild Grey whales, we were still together in beautiful San Diego. We were sick, disappointed, and a loving team. Those dichotomies can coexist.
It’s why the theatre mask has two faces—reality has both comedy and tragedy, sometimes in the same moment. And the best way I know to accept the mess is to practice awareness.
Daily meditation has rewired my brain so I can adjust travel plans logically and efficiently and then burst into tears at the kindness of strangers. Both those emotions are real regardless of my expectations about what they mean about me and how I’m scoring in the game of life.
I am stronger when I flow with acceptance and bask in the snap, crackle, and pop of joy at being alive and safe. So, I’ve decided to just dance to the beat that’s playing, because forever being the conductor is no longer my jam.
XO
Terri
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