THE INVITATION by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
“I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'”
Expectations. I’ve been thinking a lot about them lately. Partly cause my biz soul sista Erica has been bring them up a lot. Well it seems like she brings up trying NOT to have them a lot. And. Partly cause my bday is coming up. I’ll be 37 on 7.7. And I feel like bdays are the epitome of expectations. Yes.
And I know that I am not the only one. Who has expectations. Especially bday expectations. I mean clearly bdays are to be full of rainbows and unicorns. And glitter and gold. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to when lay your head down to slumber and close your eyes.
One of my best bdays was my 35th. I was 35 and ready to jive! 35 and flippin’ still alive!
It was 135 days after I found a lump in my boob. It was 104 days since I heard a surgeon tell me I had boob cancer. (Over the phone. She called while I was driving. At least she told me to pull over.) I had lost all my head hair. I had had surgery. I had driven 342 miles to MD Anderson at least 4 times. (My sis, mama and I had listened to approx 492 podcasts cumulatively on the drives. Ok. Now I’m exaggerating.) I had ended a long term live-in romantic relationship. So. I was kickin it at my mama’s full time. Livin’ w my mama gave me easy access to human care. All this. And a lot more. But. I was still flippin’ alive. And I was flippin’ ready to jive.
And. I had no expectations. I was just (gently) excited to be flippin’ alive. Gently excited to be having one. Mo. Birthday. (Ok, ok. Maybe a lil’ mo excitement than gentle excitement.)
I felt faith, and I felt flow in my heart. I don’t remember how the whole day went. I am sure it included a nap. Cause. Chemo. I remember getting to some rose and eat sopecitos on the Eastside w my soul sistas. One even brought me a rose and a sweet, heart warming note. And I got to wear my new bday playsuit aka my new romper.
So. Here’s where I am struggling peeps. W expectations. Having expectations seems human to me. Like it’s part of our experience. Like maybe it is in our nature. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we learn them. Maybe we pick it up or maybe we are taught them. And maybe some peeps truly kick an expectation free lifestyle. (And if that’s you, I’m kinda jellie.) But. Also. An expectation is hope. An expectation is believing. An expectation is excitement. And. Also. An expectation can also be an assumption. A presumption. A calculation. So I get that. Don’t assume. Don’t presume. Be careful about calculating. But I don’t get not desiring. Not dreaming. Not aiming. Not trusting. That’s not a-ok.
And. Now. I get this. This is the real deal. It’s gotta be a balance thang, chicken wang. Gotta lean into the hope but be careful not to make an a$$ outta you and me. Gotta believe w.o clinging to certainty. Gotta trust myself and lay off projecting. Gotta deal w my probs and not try to hand them to somebody else. Ok.
And I’m gonna be a lil more gentle. About my excitement. And. I am gonna be faith. And flow. So. Today. I’ll go forth w gently excitement. I hope you’ll join me. But no biggie if you don’t. No expectations.
PS. Ok. Some expectations. XOXO