Great Expectations

It's funny how this whole blog world works. Usually one of the handful of blogs that I read on a regular basis seems to line up with what I'm thinking at the moment. When the light started to shift sometime in February and I thought about writing about that, someone else wrote about it. When I was out snowshoeing and my friend Wendy pointed at the buds that were coming out on the trees, I thought about writing about that too. The next day I read someone's take on the same thing.

It doesn't surprise me. I read blogs that are similar to mine. Blogs that are about cooking, crafting (I don't really craft, but I like to read about it), gardening, and travel. So when someone writes about something I've already noticed, I nod my head in agreement.

It just happened this week. I had been feeling in a funk and I couldn't figure out why. School is busy, as always, report cards are done and ready to be handed out, and I was able to get 2 last unexpected snowshoe adventures in before the rains came and washed all the snow away. What was making me feel this way?

Expectations.

It was on the tip of my tongue at the beginning of the week, and then I read one of the blogs and the author hit the nail on the head. I expect too much. I expect too much of my time. I do it to myself. No one is to blame but me.

If I'm given some free time, I fill my head with all kinds of lists of things that need to be done. I tell myself that they need to be done. The list is then made memorable by me counting the things I need do and storing that number in my brain. At the end of the free time, if the number of things done does not match my initial number, I think I have failed. Or, if something I have planned doesn't go almost exactly like I had envisioned it, I feel bad.

This happened over winter break. Chris flew in from Chicago and we headed up north the next day with a car full of winter gear. We drove through a snowstorm to get up there, only to find that there was no snow. Like none. Like you could see the leaves that were left on the ground in the fall.

What flew out the window were my hopes of snowshoeing everyday. And possibly skiing. And maybe playing in the snow. What flew into the window was some funk. I instantly tried to change gears to make myself feel better, but I didn't know how to do it. To quote the U2 song, I was "stuck in a moment and I couldn't get out of it." I couldn't just be fine with the time I had to spend with friends. And I couldn't stop my mind racing to try to make things right.

People who know me think of me as a really calm, laid-back person. And I am, for the most part. But have me envision something and then completely change it will throw me into fits like a two-year-old with a temper. Of course I don't kick and scream (as far as you know), but my mind races like it's in some sort of NASCAR event. I become someone else. Someone who I don't necessarily like.

I need to let go.

The blog that I read this week talked about doing just that. The author was saying that she is trying hard to go into situations without expectations in mind. Without an agenda. This is easier said than done, of course, and hard for someone like me who likes to be in control. Who likes things just so.

I'm trying. I'm trying to let go. Trying to see the big picture. Trying to realize what's important. Trying to weed through the garbage. Trying to just be.