Disappointed

I do not want my remaining life to be a string of disappointments. It has been easy for me to get disappointed when things do not turn out as I wanted or even expected. I am learning to accept the turn of events as they evolve and not judge them harshly when they fail to measure up to what I wanted.

A cold winter day this past season may have been an occasion for discomfort or even difficulty. But I wanted to recognize it just as it was: an uncomfortable and difficult day. It did me no good to be disappointed that it was not warmer or more sunny when it was in fact cold and dreary. It did me no good to be disappointed that it was not the kind of winter day I might have wanted or liked.

For me, it might have been suitable for me to complain that a day is cold and dreary. But why would I be disappointed just because it is not what it clearly is not? Why be disappointed because it is not sunny and warm?

It might be that I am now sad that a beloved plant is not coming back this spring. But I am not disappointed that it appears to be dead. I am actually a little surprised when my plants return, just as they have in the past, but I am not expecting that things will be a certain way. I am not likely to be disappointed.

For me, it is the difference that comes when I am not so attached to something I want to happen. The more I grasp and cling to a future, expected event, the more likely I am to be disappointed. I try not to live in the future. I try not to focus on how things will be or how I want them to be. Then I am not disappointed when things don’t turn out just as I wanted or anticipated.

There is an unpredictable aspect of all future outcomes, and that especially includes human behavior. For me, humans seem eminently unpredictable. I try not to set too many expectations about how people will act or react. Instead, I try to focus on how they are acting right not, without much interpretation of what the future implications are. The more I try to predict how humans will act, or anticipate how I want them to act, the more likely I am to be disappointed.

I can get caught up in the importance of a plant’s return to my garden, or how I want someone to behave. I may be no less annoyed or saddened when things do not turn out as I would prefer. But I am not necessarily disappointed.

The feeling quality of the experience is remarkably different. The key factor for me has to do with how much I grasp or cling for future events to be a certain way.

I may be sad if it rains on a day I planed work in the garden, but I need not be disappointed unless I am so attached to a bright sunny day. I may not be happy it is raining, but I am not attached to the sunny day that never happened. For me, it is a more flexible way to live, and is an easier way for me to enjoy gardening or being with people.

No one else can manage my disappointment but me. It is mine alone to control. The more I am attached to an unrealized future, the more I am likely to be disappointed. The more I marvel and am even surprised by current happenings, the less likely I am to be disappointed . I may even be able to enjoy a rainy day that interferes with my abandoned plans for gardening.

When I am disappointed, I think that I am resisting what is. I am staying attached to a notion of how I think things should be or how I want them to be. When I am disappointed, I am not angry at how things are as much as I am angry that things are different from what I want.

Disappointment for me is a frustrated realization that this is not the way I want something to be. It is a frustration that things are as they are and they do not measure up to the unreality to which I remain attached.

It is satisfying for me to recognize that, even when I don’t like how things might turn out, I don’t have to be disappointed as well.