Expectations are premeditated resentments.
Twelve Step Saying
I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations and you’re not in this world to live up to mine.
Bruce Lee
I do not expect anything from others, so their actions cannot be in opposition to wishes of mine.
Paramahansa Yogananda, Autobiography of a Yogi
The one thing which seems to me quite impossible is to take into consideration the kind of book one is expected to write; surely one can only write the book that is there to be written.
Dorothy L. Sayers, Letters
One of the greatest challenges in my life has been letting go of my expectations. I certainly do have them, though they can be very good at concealing themselves by flying below the radar of my conscious perception.
Emotional sobriety is the state which beckons after the initial freedom from bondage to whatever addictive dynamic we have developed and engaged in, as most of us have, in the first half of life. This holds true, whether this be a substance addiction (as in my case), addiction to food and/or behavioural patterns such as workaholism (also familiar to me), gambling, sex, online activities, or any of the other countless forms known to humankind.
When Gabor Maté, author of The Myth Of Normal, suggests that we view addiction not only from the angle of `What’s wrong with it?´ but primarily from `What’s right about the addiction´, he means that, in order for sanity (peace of mind) and health (ease – as opposed to dis-ease) to be restored, it is indispensable to explore the rewards the addict gets from engaging in the addictive dynamic. These rewards would appear to be otherwise beyond his or her reach. They are pursued even though they are ephemeral, superficial, and clearly detrimental in the long run. Recovery involves identifying alternative, more healthy sources of rewards, as we grow in clarity and awareness.
What is wrong usually becomes abundantly clear very quickly. Not only does this `solution´ to our deeper needs and yearnings prove to be fallacious, but it also usually creates an abundance of additional new problems to add to those we sought, in vain, to remedy, or avoid in the first place. We end up with a high pile of unaddressed, older issues of emotional dependency plus a new pile of problems resulting from our entanglement in and bondage to the addictive behaviour itself. In addition to life having been unbearable, it has now become unmanageable.
On what is right about the addiction, let me back up a little. In his excellent 2021 book: `12 Essential Insights into Emotional Sobriety´, Dr Allen Berger states that many of us, through childhood adversity, create a `false self´ in the hope that, if we play the role well, we will be deemed lovable. We would then be accorded the acceptance and sense of belonging every child needs. We all need to be seen, valued, accepted, nurtured, loved, and protected. These are as indispensable to our welfare as are oxygen, nutritious food, and clean water.
The emergence of the `false self´ is a survival strategy fuelled by our innate human intelligence. It occurs in the absence of alternative resources, resources which are not yet available to the young child. It is the starting point on a journey of emotional dependency. The phenomenon appears to be far more widespread than we would like to admit in today’s culture. If and how we arrive at the conclusion that we are, in and of our selves, deficient, – unworthy of love – is an evolution distinctive to each individual child.
One common theme in adopting this survival strategy is the experience, at a very early age, that one or both parents (or adult carers) were overwhelmed and/or emotionally constrained to such a degree that they were unable to see us in our divine essence, and to love us as we were, unconditionally. They were not `up to the job´ of parenting in a manner that provided what we needed to thrive during the formative years of our development.
It is worth noting here that I can view this scenario both as the child of my long-deceased parents and the father of my, now adult, children. There is no finger-pointing here. I can clearly see that my performance as a parent fell far short of the ideal to which I aspire.
When as children we are confronted with the prospect that `my parents (on whom I still fully depend) are not up to the job´, we encounter our very own Armageddon. Our inclination is to conjure up a more palatable, – though both untrue and toxic – explanation along the lines of: `As I am, I am not worthy of their love which I so yearn.´ That relentless Inner Critic, – the Judge Saboteur – is born.
The price of being relieved of the prospect of having to look in the eye the unbearable truth of the inadequacy of our carer(s) is high. By choosing this `inadequacy´ explanation, we inadvertently add yet another layer of burden to our already heavy load.
The adoption of the stance: `I am fundamentally not OK´ is the core of what we call shame. While guilt refers to what we do, shame is about who we are. We come to believe that only when we live up to a certain set of `expectations of being´ which we place upon ourselves (imagining that these would garner the love and attention of out parents), will we be able to take our rightful place at the table of acceptance and belonging. Shame is the fertile ground upon which emotional dependency grows.
We have now entered the world of expectations and counter-expectations; those I place upon myself (be smarter, more useful, pliant, pleasing, etc.), and the expectation of how my interlocutors should react (with acknowledgement, praise, validation, etc.) once these goals have been achieved.
The rules of this playbook are tacitly constructed, implied, and enforced (at least we try). No conscious communication has taken place, and nothing has been mutually agreed. Now, imagine that each member of the family is playing the same game, unbeknownst to themselves and the other parties involved, and you have a recipe for a quintessentially dysfunctional home.
Here it is important to differentiate between aspiration and expectation. Aspiration is a strong desire, without attachment to specific outcomes, to achieve something (noble or notable) of importance to oneself, and can be, as such, fuel for the unfolding of our true potential. Expectation, on the other hand, is something (in the future) considered reasonable, due, necessary, bound in duty, or obligated. It is this flavour of entitlement, this grasping and attaching aspect, which repeatedly gets me into trouble.
The first sentence of Leo Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina is: `Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.´ My own observations confirm this. For a family to be happy, several key aspects must be given. These include acceptable material security, openly expressed mutual affection, and – especially – emotional sobriety. If there is a deficiency in any one or more of the relevant key aspects, the family will be unhappy in its own idiosyncratic, neurotic way.
Over the last two decades of living in recovery from addiction, I have become consciously aware of my expectations, – of self, others, and circumstances. Thanks to this awareness, my inclination to hold onto these expectations has abated somewhat. They do re-appear, from time to time, especially whenever I am stressed or overwhelmed, and therefore not sufficiently aware.
It has recently become apparent to me that a whole array of expectations had been stealthily accumulating below my radar, especially with respect to the next phase of my professional activities, between now and retirement age, and beyond.
While engaging in the last twenty-four months of training as a Mental Fitness Coach with the Positive Intelligence (PQ) Institute in San Franscisco, I had conjured up a scenario for the coming years: If I do A, B, and C, then the world will give me X, Y, and Z. This was based on a series of expectations such as: `Life is fair´, `Effort is rewarded´ (using my metrics), and `Because my offering is of such high value, my business plan is bound to succeed´.
Guess what? As my expectations and reality began to diverge, I became increasingly rigid in my insistence on my plans materialising just as I had originally imagined. As the gap widened even further, my capacity to respond in a creative and innovative manner became even more diminished. A downward spiral ensued until I got stuck. I began to feel sick and tired of being sick and tired to a degree that I finally became willing to change.
By applying the resources of PQ Mental Fitness and emotional sobriety, I began to release my cramped grip of entitlement and stood back to reflect. Then could I see that I had fallen into the trap of my own expectations. In fact, only then did they become visible to me for the first time.
That was the turning point. The issues of professional and financial insecurity are by no means resolved as a result. I am nonetheless feeling much better since seeing, and dropping, my immature expectations. The creative juices have been flowing again, and trust reestablished.
Observing the first emerging daffodils outside in the yard this week, I mused that they were managing just fine without expectations. As has happened since time immemorial, they will blossom when the time is right. The life energy flows through them, not from them. If the flow is unimpeded, success is guaranteed. One of my favourite passages of scripture came to mind: `Be like the lilies in the field´.
With my newfound expanded reach and leverage in terms of responding to my challenges, I have opened myself to the Universe and therefore to new possibilities. My commitment is to use the gift of my remaining years to continue to engage in serving as a Transformation Coach as best I can, driven by the vision that, one day at a time, one person at a time, we can raise awareness among ourselves and thus attain emotional sobriety. Only when that lie of shame is processed and transcended can true healing begin. We can then become the best version of who we already are.
Through this process of transformation, we, our children, and our children’s children will gradually unfold our full human potential. Our culture and planet will then begin to flourish beyond our wildest dreams.