Expect Nothing

And look for miracles

I was 16, a brand-new driver, casually over-confident behind the wheel. And that night, I was driving my Volkswagen Beetle a dozen miles or so down the two-lane blacktop, between the city and the suburb where I lived.

As I approached a railroad crossing, my mind was miles away, so I was oblivious to the flashing lights, the crossing gates that had just descended, and the two or three cars stopped for the Santa Fe or the MKT or whichever freight train was rumbling through the intersection.

At the last minute, I saw the red taillights of the stopped car right in front of me, so I slammed on the brakes of my Volkswagen Beetle, yanked the wheel to the right, and jumped to the shoulder — where I found myself headed right for a street sign.

With the reflexes of the young, I corrected again to the right and narrowly missed the sign. Instant relief. Until I realized that I was still rattling directly for this huge, dark, flickering, thundering, moving expanse, like a black hole, that had come from nowhere.

So I panic-braked, which spun me around the sign and killed the motor so that I jerked to a stop pointing 180 degrees the other direction. I sat there in shock.

Some man came up and leaned in my window.

“Are you all right?” he asked me. “I thought you were going to hit that sign!”

I looked at him as if he were mad.

“I thought I was going to hit the TRAIN!”

And indeed, in that split second of clarity, just after I missed the sign, I saw the grey and red and black streaks of that train rushing by me only scant yards away, and I knew I was going to crash into those churning tons of metal, and I expected the agony and the end of myself, and I was only 16.

Expect to hit a sign and miss it? Lucky you. Keep on thinking you’re in charge.

Expect to hit a train and miss it? This changes everything.

Expect nothing. Live frugally
 on surprise.

These opening lines of Alice Walker’s wise poem have become almost a mantra for me.

We know that our happiness depends on managing our expectations, although we forget it all the time and have to be reminded. It’s true in little ways; it’s true in large ways.

Promise me a hundred dollars and then give me ten— I’ll be ticked off, even though I have some money I didn’t have a minute ago.

But promise me a dollar, and ten will be a bonus.

And who can explain the silly grin we get when we find a fiver in our jacket pocket we didn’t know was there?

Wish for nothing larger

Than your own small heart

Or greater than a star…

What did I think was going to happen?

We have heard it over and over: the secret to happiness is not in getting what we want but in wanting what we get. Most of our suffering has nothing to do with pain. It has to do with wanting what we don’t have.

Tame wild disappointment

With caress unmoved and cold

Make of it a parka

For your soul.

I’m checking my own scorecard these days; many in my cohort are doing so. Oh, we’re preaching inner peace and acceptance and wisdom, yadda yadda — but deep down a bunch of us are asking ourselves, Did I do enough? Did I get my share? What did I really expect in return for my efforts?

Ah, who knows? More importantly, who cares?

“Follow your dreams” may be the worst advice ever

I started off in life with some talent for performing and a feverish desire to transcend the workaday world with drama and music and magic. I had a nice little professional career during my 20s and then the vein played out and I moved on.

For most of us aspiring performers, the expectation of fame and fortune wasn’t the reality. Oh, we all had those daydreams; we had all seen the movies. I predict they will remake A Star Is Born until the sun goes nova. Count on it.

But you don’t go through the emotional rigors of learning to act unless you have a deep need to move in the world of make-believe, and bring others along with you. Most of us only wanted fame and fortune so that we could continue doing make-believe. I managed my expectations just fine, thank you.

It was much harder to manage everyone else’s expectations. For example, I’d be working in a show, earning a living, which was more than maybe 90% of actors can say at any given time. I’d be deeply proud.

And then some asshat would simper and say, “Don’t worry — you’ll make it someday!” And I’d punch them in the throat. No, not really. I was an actor, so I’d say something gracious in Standard American Speech for Classic Plays, just the way I was taught.

But that practice in managing expectations served me well, so now I can say with equanimity that I failed to achieve fame and fortune in any of my subsequent careers. And that’s totally fine with me because I learned early on that fame and fortune is usually the wrong goal.

My best outcomes have had nothing to do with my expectations.

But setting my expectations too low doesn’t work any better, I’ve found.

Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

After a few years in acting, I left New York and went for a low-level job in publishing. The company offered me the position and asked me what sort of salary I wanted. Now, this was long before GlassDoor and long before I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut when someone asked me what salary I was expecting.

So I went ahead and brashly named a figure I thought I was pretty darned high. I wouldn’t work for a penny less, I said, my heart a-flutter at my own audacity.

I’d hardly finished the sentence before the manager agreed and hustled me in to sign the paperwork. It was months before I realized how badly I had undersold my services.

If it had been a movie, I’d have gone in and said, “Oh, I meant per week, not per month!” I’m totally putting that scene in the screenplay of my life.

But expect nothing. Live frugally

On surprise.

I worked for that low wage for several years. I would have been better off expecting nothing.

“Let the game come to you…”

When I am over functioning, which is always, my beloved is fond of saying I should let the game come to me. This is most annoying when: 1) it is precisely the right advice; because 2) I have no choice.

As I look back at the way the game of my life has played out so far, here are the expectations and here are the surprises:

I expected to hit a train and die, but I didn’t. So I lived to go to New York and study acting. Fortunately, I did not have to drive while I was there, so I stayed alive.

I expected to make a career in the world of make-believe, but I didn’t. So I moved back home to take an office job instead, for an inadequate salary.

I expected to move back to New York, but I couldn’t afford to on my inadequate salary.

So I met my beloved and had a real life instead, rich and challenging and crazy and beautiful.

Surprise.

For more on this everyday mystery…

https://medium.com/notes-on-the-way-up/gratitude-workarounds-d1094cb50614