good kind of pain – a saintly pain, if you will. Life as a martyr definitely had its drawbacks though. I came tantalisingly close to happiness without ever really touching it. It was like admiring priceless artefacts through thick glass. Living in a world where my high standards guaranteed disappointment at nearly every turn felt morally superior, but hollow. A grey cloud seemed to follow me everywhere, like I had it on a leash – and maybe I did.
LIFTING THE VEIL Could it be that the world wasn’t really as unsympathetic as it seemed? Were those grey clouds of my own making? Could they be the exhaust of my failed attempts to regulate the behaviour of others? With great trepidation, and with
little to lose, I resolved to drop my expectations and meet others on their own terms. Would life be any less disheartening?
Their actions weren’t about me. Shedding that misconception felt like losing a hundred pounds.
As the veil of my expectations lifted, I had a clearer view of the world around me. People entered and exited my field of vision, doing what they always did, but I no longer perceived anything conspiratorial in their behaviour. They weren’t out to make my life miserable. They were simply making their way in a world fraught with challenges, just like me. It was never personal. Their actions weren’t about me. Shedding that misconception felt like losing a hundred pounds. Once a gauge for how charitably life was treating me, my expectations had become as pointless as my appendix.
The asterisk that had always characterised my state of happiness as a work in progress has been removed. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not always happy. I no longer expect that of myself. You see, that’s the other thing. The expectations I had of myself were as enslaving as those I projected onto others. Same measuring stick, but pointed in the opposite direction. For a long time I expected more from life than it was giving me. It was a great approach, except for the fact that it was completely insane. I get what life hands me, not what I want. One is real; one is illusion. My greatest expectations are no match for my smallest moments of true happiness. n
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www.livingnow.com.au
John Ptacek’s essays explore the unquestioned assumptions that limit our capacity for happiness. They appear on his website.
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