Expectations are Harsh Taskmasters

On the first day of first grade, I broke into tears.“Why are you crying?” the teacher asked.“I forgot my psychology book!” I sobbed.The first day of first grade.I had a sister in high school.I must have overheard her.What a sign of things to come.I lived under that kind of self-imposed pressure for a long time—chasing impossible expectations,trying to achieve a world instead of participating in one.It took prolonged illness to slow me down enough to listen—to life, my body, people, nature.And it was worth every ache and procedure.Because sensitivity, which seemed a distraction during the chaseis now at the heart of everything I value.And while the instinct to over-expect from myself still pops up,it now meets a practice of breathing in the present momentnoticing tension, releasing to gravity, listening to sensation.Turns out:Stress morphs into carewhen you stop trying to construct somethingand start trying to get to know something.Simplicity overtakes the storieswhen the only goal is to be present and relational with what isWe receive hundreds of messages daily telling us to speed up.Let this be our reminder:Slowing down is always availableBut it’s too much to think we should be able to ‘just do it’It takes a field—a shared rhythm—to remember.Me writing this.You reading.The kind word shared with a flustered cashier.Looking others in the eye.This is the active, supportive work:That brings us back to ourselvesTo feel, share, connect, becomeSo let’s set down the psychology book, all those expectationsAnd pick up some crayonsThis isn’t a test or a trickit’s lifeit’s preciouslet’s get to play This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit fallingtenderly.substack.com