What do I expect?
I've often felt like expectations were everything. They tend to color the lenses through which we see all of our experiences.
I've often felt like expectations were everything. They tend to color the lenses through which we see all of our experiences.
Many years ago, Natalie and I went to a Bob Dylan concert. I've seen Dylan in concert many times. While I enjoyed each show, I knew that his skills were waning. His back had been bothering him, so he'd traded his guitar and harmonica for plunking away at a keyboard. The full-throated, clear croak of his voice from the 1960s and 1970s had given way to a wheezing, groaning grind that was often unintelligible.
Yet, even with his powers diminished by the years and the miles, I still enjoyed that show in Boston because I went into it with appropriate expectations. The best I'd ever seen Dylan was when he toured with Paul Simon in support of his much-lauded Time Out of Mind. Nearly twenty years removed from that performance, I didn't expect him to have the bite and snarl that he had in the late 1990s. I didn't expect him to sound like the sneering jokester who'd screamed "Like a Rolling Stone" at the patrons of Royal Albert Hall in 1966.
I had the right expectations. The expectations we carry into something, tend to impact how we see the event.
When you enter into something — a new relationship, a new job, a new experience — try to check your expectations at the door. Let the experience be; enjoy it for what it is.