Here we are.  

This is not a throw away sentence.  It’s perhaps the most profound reminder we’ve got.

We will never ever experience the present moment ever again.  It’s gone in a heartbeat and yet is the only sure thing we ever really touch—presence, being, the here and now.

The Holidays kick up a whole host of unique demands and expectations, leaving me often anxious if not resentful.  It’s tempting to compare my life to others I see magically splattered all over social media cavorting around magical cities, gifts thoughtfully wrapped and under the tree like a month in advance, and wearing the perfectly cut Tom Ford red velvet suit while sipping something festive. Sigh.  “One day,” I deflate to myself.  

Where do these expectations even come from?  My hunch is, they come from the stories we make up in our heads.  Ah, those glorious narratives of certainty, guarantees, entitlement, essentially—suffering.  

Why?  Because suffering is the story we make up about our lack.  “I should have a better job that lets me travel more.”  “I should have a partner that enjoys doing the same things I do.”  “I shouldn’t have to work so hard.  After all, it’s nearly November and I deserve to relax and enjoy the season.”  

Whereas these may be true, I don’t know how much progress we make changing our reality by playing the victim.  In fact, there are no guarantees in this life.  That said, keeping unrealistic expectations flush in our back pocket is a fast way to prevent abundance in our everyday experience.  

As an Enneagram type four, I often struggle with this pervasive longing for what’s missing in the moment. For example, “Ah, the sunset is beautiful, but I wish it were a bit cooler so I could really enjoy it more.” I know. Gross. 

This dangerous habit creates a crusty resentment which in turn drives away joy.  

Because the struggle is so real for me, I created a little Expectation Inventory to keep me in check a few years back.  I’ve come to wholeheartedly believe the pivotal moment in every unrealistic expectation is simple: gratitude.  It tethers us in the here and now.  It gently leads us back home to presence.  Gratitude changes everything in an instant. 

Today, I’m sharing my inventory with you.  Keep it close and use like guardrails when you start to slip into resentment.  Maybe, like me, they will keep you on track and reminded of what you do have as opposed to what you lack.   

Expectation Inventory: 

1. How do I feel right now?

2. What unrealistic expectations am I feeding into?

3. What is the payoff for having these expectations of myself or others?

4. What would it feel like if I were able to let go of these?

5. What do I need in order to let these expectations go?

6. What am I grateful for? 

Enjoy…truly!