“Sometimes, people don’t meet our expectations. For instance, a friend might not respond to our calls, our boss might not recognize our contributions at work, a family member might cause us more problems than we anticipated, someone we love might not reciprocate us back and so on… (add your own example here). Can we examine what is the right action when confronted with these sorts of disparities in expectations?”
— Question raised by Jesus Cano

I pay close attention to the question. Attention means “to observe accurately” and accurately means literarily “done with care”. So I heed the question with care, engaging all my senses and my entire being. I consider whether the question has any meaning and relevance to me. Am I merely playing with words? Am I trying to solve an intellectual challenge to alleviate boredom? I see the question as something real and urgent. A living fact that demands resolution.

I do not stay just in the words. I look at the experience and the state of mind that those words are pointing to. What does “sometimes, people don’t meet our expectations” mean? I’ve been reading about business topics lately where the word “expectation” is used frequently for other reasons, perhaps influencing the choice of the word. Language has its limitations, serving as a mere pointer. Words can only approximate our thoughts and feelings, but understanding their origins can enrich our observation. The word “expectation” comes from the Latin “exspectātiō” which means “await, look out for, desire, hope”.

So, sometimes people don’t meet our desires. I look at “desire” and I find myself encapsulating “desire” in an object right before my eyes, with well-defined boundaries and all sorts of small details on it. Why did the mind objectify “desire”? Certainly, I wanted to “grab” desire like you may do with a physical object and then throw it away. Why did the mind do such a thing?

And now, a beautiful insight is unveiled when looking at the process of observation itself. I see that I started with the assumption that “desire” is a bad thing that should be eliminated. I was not looking at desire with clarity. I was not close to it. I was being evasive. What is the thing that is desir-ing? Does desire exist by itself? Without me? It doesn’t. Therefore, desire is me. I am desire. The drift that thought took in the observation is therefore corrected by the attention and the locus of observation is restored. This cleared the observation qualitatively.

Now that the field is cleared, I go deeper. Why do I desire that people respond to my calls? Why do I desire that my boss tell me how good I am at work? And so on… While observing these questions, I felt the urge to check my inbox to see if I got the response I was waiting for. I do not restrain this urge and I check the inbox while being attentive. Still, I did not receive the email I was hoping for. Immediately I observe how my body responds to it. Certainly, there are no words involved in this observation. I feel a burning anguish, particularly in the chest. A general physical distress. Literally. Factually. Not metaphorically. This is a physical perception.

Likewise, I observe the psyche (and this well may be the same as the physical?). Where is the psychological response located in this case? And which are the senses that sense it? Certainly, I do not feel a localised burning-like sensation like in the previous physical response. There is discomfort, struggle and conflict. I stay close to it and observe with great care. In the psyche’s realm, I can only observe the content of the consciousness: the desire and hope of the expectations and the sorrow when they are unmet. Is the content of the consciousness the equivalent of physical pain? What is the equivalent of the senses that observe this content? Isn’t it this state of attention that is happening right now?

In this state of attention, I observe what brings about the desire and hope in the expectations. Desire is information. Information about how others should treat me. What brings about this information? Isn’t it knowledge created by thought in the form of an image? Otherwise, what should it be? What happens when people do not meet my expectations? When I do not get the response I desire? Certainly, this does not reinforce my desires. It does not reinforce the image I built. Whoever does not meet my desires is therefore challenging and attacking the image I identify with. What is the relationship with others when I am being challenged? Is there any relationship at all? Perhaps we have been conditioned to believe that we depend on the responses and actions of others.

This is the big irony of all. In this observation, I saw that I am relating to others through the image I built over the years. Therefore, I do not respond to others accurately, with care and attention. Can I be in a relationship with others with this image in between? Or even with myself? When I see this clearly, I come to understand that expectations are a form of attachment, a demand placed upon another to fulfil my own psychological needs. This creates a division, a conflict because the other is not there to meet my expectations but to live their own life.

If a friend does not respond to my calls, can I simply observe my reaction without immediately labelling it as betrayal or indifference? If my boss does not recognise my contributions, can I still take pride in our work without the need for external validation? If a family member causes problems, can I approach the situation with understanding rather than frustration?

In light of this understanding, what then is the right action? The right action arises naturally when there is no division between the observer and the observed and when we are not operating from a centre of expectation and demand. It means responding to each situation with full attention, not from a place of hurt or desire, but from a place of clarity and compassion.

The right action, therefore, is not a fixed set of rules, a path or a system but a living, dynamic response born of attention. It is not about what I should do but about understanding the deeper nature of our relationship with others and the inner workings of this engine we all have in the human mind. From this understanding, action that is appropriate, compassionate, and intelligent will naturally emerge.

So, can I look at these disparities in expectations without the lens of the image, without the desire for fulfilment? In doing so, I may find that my actions and observations are no longer dictated by unmet expectations but by a deeper, more profound understanding of myself and my relationships. This may be the beginning of true freedom.

I am going back to the question that initiated this page and I read it again. Is it still relevant? Is it a concern? Has the right action naturally emerged? ◼