Why don’t things work out the way we think they will? Have you considered this? I mean, really thought about it, how we examine an upcoming situation or event and project what will happen?
I presume you have thought this way. Most (if not all) of us do. We look ahead. We presume what is going to happen. Then it doesn’t. The situation may come close to our imagination, but there are always details or actions that don’t match how we looked at it beforehand.
This is strange. Why do we look ahead? If we know things won’t turn out the way we expect, what is it that still drives us to see the future in terms that won’t meet those expectations?
We can over-expect and things turn out worse than we thought. Or we can under-expect, and WOW, things are so much better than we thought they’d be.
Let’s take an example, like getting a new job. When you interview, you ask questions of the hiring manager. In turn, you ask that person a few to determine what the position will be like. Will you like it? Will it embrace your skill set? Do you see it as boring, repetitive, challenging? What are all the duties?
This back and forth will give you (hopefully) a strong sense of what’s involved. But, will you “know” really everything that will happen to you in that position? Of course not.
Look at the jobs you’ve had (and be honest with yourself) and aren’t there always some duties not mentioned in the hiring description or by the boss that you have to do that they didn’t discuss beforehand? And, aren’t there some things you were told would be part of your daily arsenal that you end up having nothing to do with? I would answer “yes” to both those questions. The job never turns out the way you think it will.
This syndrome applies to just about everything we do. You raise kids. You help them with school, sports, extracurricular activities. You see talents they have. You encourage them. They do well (or not) in various endeavors. You look ahead and see they could be good at this or that.
As you go through all those years, you find your children experience many more things than you expected, developing beyond what you thought they were capable of, and not pursuing talents you thought they were great at. They drive their lives.
Traveling is a big area where trips don’t turn out the way we think they will. We imagine beautiful sunsets, scenery, experiences. When the plane is late or the food is bad or the weather horrible, it colors how we perceive things. “Sure didn’t turn out the way I thought.”
Several times I’ve been fortunate to play for championship sports teams, once playing for the intramural softball championship team at the University of Illinois and winning multiple softball championships with a group of friends on a team we called the “Traitors.” Going into those tournaments, I expected good things due to our talent and chemistry.
Yet winning those championships wasn’t something I expected. At least for me, I lived the moment. Each game had challenges, and we found ways to surmount them, come together and create something stronger. Perhaps that was a key to victory – live the moment.
Scottie Scheffler, the current undisputed best player in professional golf the past three years or so, seems to have this quality of “staying in the moment” in spades. He takes things as they come. He doesn’t get ruffled. It bodes him well. He wins and wins and wins.
Things will never turn out exactly the way you think they will. The more you can live the moment, the more you can savor it.
I presume you have thought this way. Most (if not all) of us do. We look ahead. We presume what is going to happen. Then it doesn’t. The situation may come close to our imagination, but there are always details or actions that don’t match how we looked at it beforehand.
This is strange. Why do we look ahead? If we know things won’t turn out the way we expect, what is it that still drives us to see the future in terms that won’t meet those expectations?
We can over-expect and things turn out worse than we thought. Or we can under-expect, and WOW, things are so much better than we thought they’d be.
Let’s take an example, like getting a new job. When you interview, you ask questions of the hiring manager. In turn, you ask that person a few to determine what the position will be like. Will you like it? Will it embrace your skill set? Do you see it as boring, repetitive, challenging? What are all the duties?
This back and forth will give you (hopefully) a strong sense of what’s involved. But, will you “know” really everything that will happen to you in that position? Of course not.
Look at the jobs you’ve had (and be honest with yourself) and aren’t there always some duties not mentioned in the hiring description or by the boss that you have to do that they didn’t discuss beforehand? And, aren’t there some things you were told would be part of your daily arsenal that you end up having nothing to do with? I would answer “yes” to both those questions. The job never turns out the way you think it will.
This syndrome applies to just about everything we do. You raise kids. You help them with school, sports, extracurricular activities. You see talents they have. You encourage them. They do well (or not) in various endeavors. You look ahead and see they could be good at this or that.
As you go through all those years, you find your children experience many more things than you expected, developing beyond what you thought they were capable of, and not pursuing talents you thought they were great at. They drive their lives.
Traveling is a big area where trips don’t turn out the way we think they will. We imagine beautiful sunsets, scenery, experiences. When the plane is late or the food is bad or the weather horrible, it colors how we perceive things. “Sure didn’t turn out the way I thought.”
Several times I’ve been fortunate to play for championship sports teams, once playing for the intramural softball championship team at the University of Illinois and winning multiple softball championships with a group of friends on a team we called the “Traitors.” Going into those tournaments, I expected good things due to our talent and chemistry.
Yet winning those championships wasn’t something I expected. At least for me, I lived the moment. Each game had challenges, and we found ways to surmount them, come together and create something stronger. Perhaps that was a key to victory – live the moment.
Scottie Scheffler, the current undisputed best player in professional golf the past three years or so, seems to have this quality of “staying in the moment” in spades. He takes things as they come. He doesn’t get ruffled. It bodes him well. He wins and wins and wins.
Things will never turn out exactly the way you think they will. The more you can live the moment, the more you can savor it.
