THAT PESKY TRAP OF EXPECTATION

Happy to report I am once more able to get around the apartment upright with a cane. Something has again shifted in the ankle. My suspicions are it has simply died a little more after staying off it for several weeks now, so the nerves are not biting me so much.

Also I found this journal entry from 7 years ago, dated July 23^rd 2019:

Walking back from visit with new ankle doctor. After taking x-rays, he advised doing exactly what I am doing and seemed amazed I can still walk and am largely pain free. The talas is completely gone. He said my only surgical option was a fusion requiring another major surgery, 6 months completely off my legs and that would just present another difficulty to adapt to. He said to keep doing what I am doing - which is never test the foot or stress it, keep up the simple exercises I do and avoid any risk of stepping on it wrong. If I re-injure it, I am screwed. No physical therapy.

So that means no subways, no travel, a limited life within the confines of my Soho neighborhood with few exceptions and then only by car. 

This was a confirmation that expansion is no longer an option and a reminder to celebrate what I have achieved, after 8 years (now 15) of struggle.

So often I am faced with friends who hope for more, but in perhaps disappointing them I seem to be saving myself. Lesson learned is "be grateful for what you have and stop wanting more. You will never dance again. Independence is only possible within strict parameters. Nobody will understand your limits, but must be reminded.”

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And so I continue with a limited life, having let go completely any idea of needing to expand my horizons. I am content, relatively comfortable and have help when I need it. Is there really any more we can ask?

But of course we never stop learning, so I can now add a note about something else I have recently learned. It may apply to all our lives.

I watched as Ilia Malinin fell twice in the Olympic men's skating final after he had been branded the "Quad  God" and it was said he had achieved an entirely new level in the technical possibilities of the sport. As he fell off the medal run so expected of him, he had become another victim of the trap known as expectation. The future is never what we wish or imagine or even deserve it to be. It is the result of being present each moment that leads up to it. When we are immersed in what we or even the rest of the world expect the outcome to be, we lose the chance to realize it.

It is so tempting to feed the dream, to manifest a desired outcome, but if that causes us to take our concentration off the moment, we often forfeit any reward. I am worried the Democrats are so expecting to win the upcoming mid-term election, they may fail to prepare for those dismal, dastardly and dirty tricks laying in wait to once again steal it away.

I hear friends involved in new relationships expressing the fear of it not becoming what they need or not fulfilling their expectations. Expectations are never our friend. Hope is as close as we can get to realizing our dreams, but to harbor in our minds some preferred outcome of present behavior is to jinx it entirely. This requires a deep trust of the moment, an unwavering reliance on oneself, and a belief that what happens is just what happens, which we must accept because the passing moment requires it of us. Life is not the realization of fantasy or the satisfaction of desire, but the moment to moment changes we learn to ride as we ACcept instead of EXpect, and appreciate the situation that ends up coming to us. We process what IS, not what we EXPECT. In these troubled lives it is very difficult but important to know the difference.

Expectations also figure heavily in the increasing AI world. Bots are all about prediction of intent, always trying to anticipate your wants. They are based on trying to get ahead of you, to know what you may want before you know it, thus their entire behavior is based on expectation. 

Thanks for reading, since this is where all my creative impulses are currently flowing and it warms my heart to be heard.

Photo by Stephen Petrilli