Expectations

On the coast of Sinai, I came to realize something about expectations.

The roots of my revelation began while I was sitting at the Bedouin lounge of the Penguin Resort in Dahab, sharing one last sheesha with two of my friends - Nickoli & Adam - before they left for Luxor later that night. While smoking mango tobacco in front of a relaxing view, we invited over and befriended two Americans and one Australian nearby. The three hour talk that ensured was one of the best talks I've had in my life; full of contemplation, philosophical reflection, and laughter it covered a broad range of subjects from the cosmos and physics to quality snorkeling spots not far away. One of which was Blue Hole, a nearby snorkeling spot we had visited only a day before. Nickoli had actually been there twice, biking the first time and catching a ride with us the next. Her exact words about the bike ride were, "it's not too bad." Eric, Nate and Silvia all agreed they'd save some money and give it a shot tomorrow. Eventually Adam and Nickoli said their farewells and left to catch their bus. A couple of hours later I said goodnight as well. Eric asked me some final logistics about their day trip tomorrow. He asked me how long of a ride it was...

Here I fudged up (an "uh-oh" if you will) for my experience of getting there was not by bike - but by car. I told him 25 minutes...

So my friends rented some bikes, and set off for their destination with certain expectations I had helped foster. Only, what they experienced in reality was drastically different from the what they imagined it to be. The bike ride did not take them 25 minutes, it took them 90. The bike ride, on top of that, was undertaken in the worst Egyptian conditions possible: during the hottest part of the day, with one bottle of water, and covering vast rocky and hilly terrain. Eric was also in flip-flops. Needless to say, it was a bike ride from Hell. In Silvia's version of the story, for example, she told me how Eric at one point hissed, "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him." Thankfully, he never did.

Our imaginations are incredibly powerful, maybe more so than we are fully aware. The visions we conjure up in anticipation of an event - especially one we look forward too - of how we desire the situation to unfold can be so vivid (and are often replayed in our minds to the point where they crystallize) that it's no surprise we are almost never satisfied when these fantasies fail to live up to the high standards we expect of reality. Too often have I experienced something which I had expected to be better. My solution is this: limit expectations, and embrace the now.

If we expect less, or lower those standards, we will be pleasantly surprised more. And only when we embrace the fact that only the present exists can we stop ourselves from living in the illusions of our minds and no longer force ourselves to suffer in these situations we originally expected more from.

Now let it be clear, while it may seem so I'm not trying to justify my mistake in misleading my friends into the barren land of the Devil. That was definitely my "b." That said, maybe the next time we find ourselves in those situations where we are disappointed, we can suffer a bit less and even salvage a bit of pleasure in the simple act of acknowledging "the suck" for what it is:

Reality.