Great Expectations

You don’t have enough drive. You’re expecting too much.

You aren’t where you should be. Why aren’t you there yet?

You have proved you dedication on a regular basis. We have concerns about your commitment.

You’re breaking records. But lets focus on a few of these failures …

You have the voice of a leader. Don’t say that.

I hear you. We can talk about that later.

Everyone is different. I never would have done that.

I’m sorry you feel that way. I don’t care.

Maintain balance. I expect more from you.

I’m doing all I can. You’re not doing enough.

Take care of yourself. Bleed.

You have time. Go faster.

Let it go. Have some grit.

Do you understand the responsibility you have? You could never be responsible for that.

We have high expectations for you. We don’t expect you to understand.

Expectations: a belief that someone will or should achieve something.

I’ve spend a lot of time over the past few months thinking about that word: expectations. Expectations we have for others, the expectations we they have for us, and the ones we have for ourselves. Where, or do they ever, intersect? How do we keep track of them, when they are very often changing or even contradicting? On top of that, expectations present and disguise themselves in so many ways - as advice, as encouragement, as compliments, as love, as criticism, as coaching, as strategy, as projection. With so many expectations coming from all angles - which ones are we supposed to meet? All of them?

Because we all have expectations - for our life, for our career, for our relationships, for our health, for our happiness. We have expectations of how people should treat us, interact with us, love us. We have expectations for our success: what it looks like, how quickly we achieve it, how powerful we become. And our own expectations are then compounded by the one’s others have for us in turn.

Even you - whoever you are reading this - have certain expectations of me. How I should act, what I should be doing, who and what I should care about, who or what I should give my time/talent/money to. Is this a bad thing?

Expectations are tricky. Expectations can be incredibly valuable as motivators, setting the bar higher than normal. They can push us to be better and to achieve things maybe we never thought we could. We inherently want to meet expectations so we often push harder, faster, deeper in order to achieve them. Sometimes we’re doing this for ourselves, sometimes we’re doing this for others.

And when we don’t meet them? It can be excruciating. It feels like we’ve let people down. It feels like failure.

I don’t think we often realize how heavy the expectations we carry have gotten. We collect them like pebbles, dropping them into our pockets day after day, until before we know it our backs are breaking from the weight. “You are smart, move faster.” “It’s different for you.” “Make them proud.” “When are you going to take over?” “Everyone is watching you. You must perform at all times.” “I believe in you.” “Where do you see yourself in ten years - you need to be thinking about that now.” “Do you know how many people are affected by your decisions?” “Are you on track?” “Why am I not there yet?” “I’m not doing enough.” “I should be a better friend.” “I can’t cancel that dinner, even though I’m so tired.” “If they see that in me, it must be true?”

Good or bad - healthy or unhealthy - expectations carry weight. And, as with everything, eventually, something’s got to give. Or we’ll break. I’m not suggesting the banishment of expectations, because as already mentioned, I think they can be good. Expectations push us, hold us accountable, and set boundaries - both professionally and personally. But there does come a time where we have to let some of them go. But how? And which ones?

Why is it so hard to let go of expectations? Is it because expectations are often confused with hope, or because they are so intricately tied to failure? Is it because they are so easily threaded through our internal thoughts and monologues? Is it because expectations so often come from those we love and trust the most? Or it is because the deepest rooted, and heaviest of all expectations, come from ourselves? Sometimes we create our own heartbreaks through expectations.

Recently, I have felt a great pull to release many things, but overwhelmingly to release expectations - my own and those others have for me. I’ve had a few catalysts drive this over the past year, but in truth is hasn’t been just one or two things - it’s been many many events and relationship and disappointments and bones breaking that’s finally gotten me to the most simplistic solution - let it go. Drop it.

Traditionally all scuba divers wear a weight belt or weight pockets while diving. In an emergency, we are trained to drop these weights, so we can get to the surface quicker. This can be the difference between life and death. As an instructor, I’ve trained this skill over and over and over again. It’s a required skill of any open water diver, and it’s practiced many times in the pool and in open water. It’s really a very simple and logical action. If you are in trouble, if you are out of air, of course you would let go of the heaviest thing weighing you down. Right? Funnily enough, when overloaded with emotion, it’s very often forgotten. Many divers fight their way to the surface, forgetting the belt as they drag their way toward the surface, eyes towards the light. Many divers have been found deceased at the bottom of the ocean, out of air, weight belt still tight around their waist. The weight has become so familiar, so much a part of us, that we forget we can just … release it.

I certainly have forgotten this. And transparently, even though I haven’t been always been aware of it and I certainly don’t consider myself unhappy overall, I’ve been looking up towards the sun, muscles straining, desperate for oxygen for quite some time now. Fighting against myself, carrying all the weight and expectations I’ve put in my pocket along the way. I love diving, but this isn’t what it’s supposed to feel like. Any diver can call off any dive, at any time, for any reason.

I think this is where I release my belt. Right hand to my waist, pulling the clip, letting it all slip to the bottom of the sea. I think this is where I kick my feet, reach out my finger tips, and break the surface. I think this is where I gasp for air, sunshine and salt across my face. I think this is where I fill my lungs fully for the first time in a long time. It burns, but it feels so good. A shock to the system. I think this is where my head starts clearing out the panic and overwhelming thoughts and worst case scenarios. I think this is where I float, lay my head back, feel the waves gently holding me up.

I think this is where I set myself free.

Is that what you were expecting?

Alex