The Thing about Expectations - part 1

I have had a ‘thing’ with expectations for some time now… working through what happens when you have a vision, when you envision, have dreams about things and then circumstances change and those possibilities of dreams are no longer viable, no longer possible. However and… at the current moment, I really do see a difference between envisioning something and an expectation. So in this sense, I am still working to make sense, to know, to understand these words, their meanings and these experiences.

Confused. Welcome to my mind… (some of the time). My dear friend Nicole, who I affectionately call Ria will recall a moment that makes me smile EVERY TIME I bring it back to my mind. We were at a park on night in High School and some decision was made and I commented, “I am so confused.” Ria responded, “obviously.” So this notion of sitting with things in my mind, thinking about them, at times brings confusion and at others there is such a deep sense of clarity, a deep sense of inner knowing.

In this way I mean specifically that I know, from experience, that I can envision something and make it happen. Right now, as I type, I am sitting on the third floor of Om Bhavan in room 22 at the Sri Ram Ashram in Haridwar, India listening to the voices of children carry up from the floors below, and while I did not envision this moment specifically, I had many dreams and visions about working with women and children in India and here I am. So, yes, to me there is a difference between envisioning, a vision and or a dream and an expectation. And my intention here is to share a few of the MANY opportunities that have risen for me to see how my “expectations” are never helpful for me.

Room 22, the first door on the left on the 3rd floor.

The first one caught me by surprise. I was at Sattva Academy in the foothills of the Himalayas for my 200 hour teacher training. We were a week in to our training and I had established a solid morning routine that consisted of puja, mediation, sitting by the river to greet the sun and then our morning journey. On this particular morning, I was captivated by the sun, her warmth, her beauty and her light, so taken in that I lost track of time. I gathered my things and rushed (I know I am not the first to rush to a yoga class) to the Brahamanda Hall. As I approached I saw a lot of room inside and thought, ‘huh,’ as I got closer there were very few pairs of shoes outside the door, another ‘huh’ entered my mind and then as I went to open the door I saw Mark who saw my face and said, “we are going on a hike today.” Aghhhh..not at all what I expected. So I rushed to my room to get my shoes and put down my mat and bag. I made it to the meeting place and took a deep breath and then we were off. Folks were running up the hill and on their way. I stayed back and followed my natural rhythm of walking.

This is the stunning tree with the root that curled up over itself. I spent a lot of time here one day and will write about my experience soon.

Along the way we passed children in uniforms walking to school and folks, both men and women making their way ‘to town’ with bags in their hands. We passed a tree whose trunk was bent and twisted and fascinating to look at. As we walked up and up we stepped on a path that was being built. We saw lunch pails and jackets hanging in trees, men arranging rocks, chipping away at pieces with hammers as they worked to get them to fit in the spaces left to fill from the other rocks as the path was being built. Women were carrying the rocks balanced on their heads and them dumping them in piles near where the path was being constructed. We passed a concrete shelter, one that I had seen close to a bus or taxi stand although we were high up and there was no access for any motor vehicles.

There was a steady stream of folks. Some ran ahead and others we walking in pairs or groups talking (this walk was in place of our journey so it was actually time to be in silence) and I chose to find a pace and place that had some distance between me and the person in front of and behind me. We came to a village and saw a man tending to a fire, a woman washing dishes, and children admiring us from a gate. We passed cows, goats, gardens, laundry drying on lines and water access. As we continued our walk up, I noticed that Anandji and the runners had stopped. I heard a bell and turned to see a group was near the village temple. Great I thought, we were far behind and went the wrong way. And then I saw that they were not on the path and that they had got off track. They made their way to us and we all went up. Where are we going,? I thought. Are we going to the top of this mountain? I am excited to reach the sun. When will we arrive there? How much further?

We followed the path up and up and up and after climbing up rocks we reached an overlook. The space opened up and we could see for miles. In the distance we could see the “Goddess Temple” (that I wrote about earlier with the Pandit and my sacred thread), structures on the hillside and we could hear voices of folks from surrounding villages. We gathered and began to sit on the hillside. I chose a place in the shade and got settled as the sounds of drumming and singing arose from a nearby school. I closed my eyes. I breathed. I could tell that folks continued to gather as I could hear them arriving and getting situated- breathing in, exhaling, sipping water, removing clothing. I wondered, when will Anadji start talking, I have seen images and videos of wisdom talks in nature, surely he will talk with us here. Maybe he is waiting for everyone to arrive and will get a signal from someone and then he will start. When folks came near and sat, I kept thinking oh, now he will start. Or maybe it is now. Okay, it is not now, maybe he is giving folks time to breathe and get settled and then he will start.

Here we are. This picture was taken by Matheus and was posted on Sattva Connect, which is where I got it from.

And just like that, folks started standing. Standing. Folks were standing and gathering their things and moving. Moving. Folks were moving. We were leaving. We were asked to stop for a moment to capture a picture and then, we were off, headed on a path down. I was confused. I thought, wait, Anandji is supposed to talk to us, that is why we came, for him to talk to us, to share something. In the videos I have seen Anandji talk to folks outside. That is what he was supposed to do here.

Nope, that is not what happened. That was an expectation I had of what I thought was supposed to happen, of what would happen. An image in my mind, thoughts based on previous experiences that I made up, that I told myself would happen. See, I told you I had a thing about expectations.

This second one hit me hard, and I mean hard. I got caught in a loop for days over it.

We had another opportunity to go for a hike, this time to a waterfall and two choices were offered to us, to walk up along a stream to access waterfall or take a path. I love water and chose to walk along the stream (as I type I am recalling more and more details and am laughing out loud, this experience really got me good).

I heard folks around me say that Anandji likes to run and jump from rock to rock and that they should plan to get wet. Instantly the self-doubt voice entered- run?, I do not run, jump from rock to rock?, I am intentional about where I step. Wet?, no, not happening with these shoes, first off they are new and second, how will they dry…. And just like that everyone that chose to go this route started running. Not like a jog, a full on run. My first thought was, no worries. Folks will fall back and be with me, I will not be alone, that is what happened on the last hike. No, that did not happen. I was last, the absolute last one. The self doubt, self talk was rampant, do I take the path? No, I chose to go along the water, I like the water, I want to be along the water. Do I run, no, I do not run. I am not a runner. But I can run. Should I run? Should I run to keep up? No, this is not about getting somewhere, it is about the experience and me running is not the experience that I want…When I say I was the last one, I was. And to give you a glimpse of where we were, there was no path. There was no path along the river. I was following where it looked like folks had been before me as evidenced by leaves of bushes having mud from being stepped on and trampled over or rocks that were wet from feet climbing over them.

Eventually, I ‘caught’ up to the crew since the route had slowed some down. Here I too, was mindful of where I placed each foot, careful to not slip and/or to put my foot in the river- no soggy socks and shoes for me… Until, I slipped and in my foot went. That expectation did not last and to my astonishment and amazement, it was MUCH easier to walk up river than it was to walk along it. “Oh, right,” I heard myself say, “this is what Anandji was saying, the rocks are the river, they are not in the river, they are the river. There are no obstacles on the path, the obstacles are the path.” With this new “confidence,” I started passing folks who were alongside the river while I was the river and ahead I saw a bridge. I had one person in my sight of vision and she crossed the bridge. I did the same.

I continued walking and walking now that I was on the dirt path. I did not see anyone. More doubt came, this time with anger, “why is no one waiting for me? Don’t they see that there are more of us coming? Why hasn’t that girl turned around to see if I was behind her? Am I being punished for passing the others? Should I stop and wait for them so at least they know where to go? But then what happens if when I wait for them, they the others get so far ahead I really do not meet up with them? I should wait, I should wait. That is what I should do, no one waited for me, but I should wait. I will wait.”

So I waited. I waited and I waited. I peed along side the path. A man with a backpack and dress shoes passed me talking on the phone. I waited some more. And more thoughts came, “now that I have waited, I have no idea where the rest of the group is. I am missing out. I bet Anandji is imparting wisdom and I am missing it because I waited to take care of others, when no one waited to take care or even care about me!”

I fully recognize that one can wonder, “how can she be mad while being here?” The view of Sattva with the red roofs is in the distance.

I was fuming with anger as I turned and began walking back towards the area from which we came. More and more thoughts were running in my mind, “why isn’t there someone from the group, one of the ‘teachers’ ensuring we are all together? Why did I stop to care about others when no one stopped to care about me. Am I supposed to learn to take care of myself? Am I supposed to learn to think only of me? Am I supposed to take care and be responsible for others? What does it even mean to be responsible of others? Where are the others, why have they not caught up to me?” These thoughts trolled my mind the whole walk back to Sattva. When I arrived, I saw a few folks that were ahead of me, they were laughing and smiling and talking and I was even more mad. I sulked off and went to my room to take off my soggy socks, shoes and pants and to sit alone.

My roommate Alessia, entered and asked if I made it to the waterfall. “Nope”, I replied with nothing more. “I didn’t either. I followed the person in front of me, I think we went the wrong way,” she said. I could feel a bit of ease entering my heart. Wait, I am not the only one who didn’t make it to the waterfall... I do not know how long I carried around the hurt, the anger, the resentment, the wondering. I know that at some point it was gone. Maybe I forgot, maybe it had is course, maybe it moved on… eventually I was back to me again.

A week later, we had a day off and my roommate and I decided that we were going to make it to the waterfall. So while folks were loading up in taxis to head to Rishikesh to shop, we set forth to redeem ourselves and see the waterfall. This time, we choose to take the path. It was a week later and I worked up the courage to say I did not make it to the waterfall the first time and inquired about how to get there. I was told- walk along the path, cross the bridge and keep the river to your left. With this ‘plan’ in our mind, we set forth. This time we were going to see the waterfall.

We walked along the path (the path I walked back on the first time), crossed the bridge (in the opposite direction from the previous time) and had the river stay on our left. We walked and walked and were quiet. We talked and shared our excitement to read and write near the waterfall and debated going for a swim in its pool below. We stopped to take pictures. We stopped to listen to the sounds. We took in the magnificent beauty of where we were. We approached a stone structure and a bridge made from pipes. We crossed the bridge and kept following the path until there was a split. We decided to go right staying low, keeping the water near rather than climbing high.

Eventually we came to a crossing and I felt, that the waterfall was hidden in the narrow section of the forest. Yet, we could not get to it. The path that we chose to take lead us up, up, up. On these beautifully laid stones, I thought of the men and woman who were making a similar path on our first hike. I recalled the work they were doing, my gratitude and thought of the folks who laid this path- for it was some time ago evidenced my the growth of green growing in between. We reached a place from which we could see. In the distance there was a village and had we taken the path to the left, we would have approached it. We could hear voices in the village, maybe the waterfall is there and that is why the created the village. Should we go up further? Should we scramble down this cliff to get back to the river… Alessia pulled up pictures that folks from the first trip to the water fall posted and we looked at the surroundings trying to asses where it was taken.

A view, looking back at where we had gone up, up, up in search of the waterfall.

We decided to turn around and to walk back the way we came. As we retraced our steps we continued to take in the beauty, noticing a different perspective than the one we had on the way ‘there.’ We came back to the stone house and bridge made from pipes. We admired the rocks and the flowing water. We asked ourselves if this was the rock in the posted picture of the waterfall. We decided, while it looked similar it was not the same as this was not a waterfall… so we continued on. On our way back we encountered two other folks from our training as their path literally intersected with ours. We exchanged what we had been doing for the day and at that moment we learned that we HAD MADE IT TO THE WATERFALL.

The waterfall was at the stone house and pipe made bridge. While we had been expecting water rushing over or out from the side of the mountain, the waterfall was a series of rocks in which the water was rushing over or falling over the rocks. See what I mean about expectations? The whole time we were ‘looking for something specific,’ we set forth with an expectation, a destination in our mind and had our focus set on that expectation- water falling from the side of a mountain, with a pool that we could get in to and swim. We actually spent time at the waterfall- twice, once on the way ‘there’ and then on the way back from ‘there.’

We witnessed its beauty and enjoyed its sound and we did not even know that it was the waterfall we ‘sought’ to see. We had such an expectation of what our waterfall was to be, we didn’t see this waterfall as a waterfall. We did however enjoy the walk, the journey, the silence and the company of one another and of nature. Just as it was meant to be.

I love life and am grateful to receive a beautiful lesson.

Laughing out loud, with a heart full of love and a soul full of light,

HUGS

Sara