The Nature of Expectation

Well...

It's been a few days since I've posted, and this week's theme is Conversations with Nature; interesting, as it's turning out to be far different than I had originally expected. I have said for years that expectations are dangerous, a concept I came to better understand from reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle.

You see, expectations are what we think will happen, what we envision the future will be like. We take what we know of previous situations, conceptually average it out, and create this scenario in our mind from it. The chances of whatever it is actually happening exactly that way are slim to...no...wait...it's impossible. There is absolutely no way that our car will go exactly that speed for exactly that amount of time, or that she will say those exact words with that exact look on her face, or that everything will go off without a single hitch, because we happen to have been subjectively lucky in the past in matters of this kind. Ridiculous. It's impossible. We have already created this expectation though, whether we meant to or not, and whatever scenario we have imagined is swimming around waiting to be fulfilled- whether it was optimistic or pessimistic in nature. Our exact expectations are never met. Never. Ever. And when expectations aren't met, disappointment isn't far behind. It waits in the wings, ready to jump out as soon as this inevitability arises. And with unmet expectation, disappointment, comes a feeling of loss- a loss for something we never even had to begin with. Now, how ridiculous is that...?

For these last few years, I have been ever-striving to rid my mind of expectation. Yes, it's a tough habit to break. No, I am not there yet. Not even close. That said, with practice, I have learned to do this once in a while. The beauty of not having expectations is that you can't be disappointed. When you allow yourself not to know what is to come, and to be okay with that, a phenomenal thing happens: life. Expectation is a resistance to what is, and if it isn't what it is, what is it exactly? Right.

Okay, so I had expected this week to be about meditation. Not just any kind of meditation- a very specific kind of meditation in very specific places. Five specific places to be precise. Five places in nature. Well, Monday came and went without meditating on the edge of a lake. Then, Tuesday came and went without having meditated in front of a tree. And now, you likely expect me to say that Wednesday has come and gone without meditating too. Yes and no. Today, I had expected to find myself meditating in the middle of a garden. Interestingly, you actually have to go to a garden, sit down, and meditate if you want that to happen. Who knew? What has happened this week, you ask? I'll tell you....

Primarily, I have learned a good deal about the natural world. It was only when I stopped kicking myself for having not meditated a particular way, and allowed myself to be where I was yesterday- letting go of the original expectations for the week, that I was able to see the conversations with the natural world I had actually been having. And I wouldn't give them up for anything. The best part is that I don't have to; they're already there, and mulling them over has become a part of what this week is thus far.

I must quickly mention that I have granted myself very little rest the last few nights, and the truth is that my body is tired. So tired, in fact, that I will have to relay the bulk of the last few days tomorrow, because I am headed to my bed shortly. My typing has slowed- it is taking longer and longer to decide what I'm going to say in each sentence, which tells me it's time.

I will say this: nature is anything and everything that isn't man made. Nature is everything from water to oxygen to cliffs and Great Blue Herons. Nature is (for lack of a better term) all things natural. We breathe it, we consume it, we see it, we touch it, we love it, we abuse it, we seek it out, we have it in front of us....it is us. We are as much a piece of nature as any bird or grain of sand or sunflower or sea creature. I think we forget that sometimes. I know I do.

Until then, friends, I can no longer resist the piece of the natural cycle we call sleep...nor should I. Rest up, as will I, and we'll converse again tomorrow. Conversations with Nature.