What is an expectation?

In Mexico, in a town that never slept, I found the quiet after sunset, walking along a lagoon, or towards the city. Only then could I hear the sound of my own footsteps, marred by swarms of cockroaches under foot and the crack of their shells, unavoidable because of the numbers. I walked on the way to Meri and Pepe’s house, for a cup of coffee. They never turned me down and were always up late. Such a quiet house, Meri a Peruvian and Pepe a Mexican Artist who ran Bellas Artes in Tampico. They welcomed me into their home both in Tampico and in “el DF” which was brimming with people and excitement and story telling. No television or radio, all music was from the family and all “reality” was in the moment and they valued the stories told by people, and enjoyed their food. Walking the streets of Tampico I could get lost, but I always knew where I was, never felt unsafe there until about 10 years ago, and I walked everywhere, to the beach, to Cd. Madero, downtown, to the Lagoon, the Country Club and to the University. But nighttime was when the city slept, and the cars stopped, and only few conversations between friends who visited could be heard but only if you were the friend, the closed doors silenced the talking, and the only sound were your own footsteps.

Your turn…. See Coyote

So, I anticipate another way to see and experience a beauty in the world, along a path, not traveled yet by others, perhaps that kayak is the way to mimic Thoreau:

“At present, in this vicinity, the best part of the land is not private property; the landscape is not owned, and the walker enjoys comparative freedom. But possibly the day will come when it will be partitioned off into so-called pleasure grounds, in which a few will take a narrow and exclusive pleasure only, — when fences shall be multiplied, and man traps and other engines invented to confine men to the public road; and walking over the surface of God’s earth, shall be construed to mean trespassing on some gentleman’s grounds. To enjoy a thing exclusively is commonly to exclude yourself from the true enjoyment of it. Let us improve our opportunities then before the evil days come.”

I wonder if it will be quiet enough to hear the coyote dancing with the otter, like you saw that day. Will their sounds echo across the water, like the Loon does in Northern Minnesota, with its human like cry? Will Eagles really cross the sky? Will the lake be still with only the sounds of the paddles pushing the kayaks through the water?

 A strange word I learned in meditation, a way of existing in the present moment with no expectations. A way of noticing things without expectation. To make a meal without hunger or expecting a feeling of satisfaction or fullness after eating. So the question becomes, as I walk through this life, one I have learned has little to offer in terms of what I expected, how do I stay away from disappointment. If I look for the eagle soaring, listen for the loons plaintive cry, and wait for the rush of moving through space across a clear lake; will I have taken all of the beauty out of the moment because of anticipation? And what is beauty? I enjoy the act of creating, and that has been kind of true for me always. The end object, the painting or the essay or the kayak, have seemed more like remnants of the activity. Because what is achievement but a projection onto an object or activity of who you are, whereas who you are is actually the observer. So, as long as I can move, write, put things together on a plate, play a game that doesn’t end, I feel engaged. I stay away from disappointment by not thinking, the 75% chance that any expectation will not be met, is a relief for me. So, Thoreau’s take on beauty sums it up:

“Yes; though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human art contrived, or else of a dismal swamp, I should certainly decide for the swamp. How vain then have been all your labors, citizens, for me!”

Your turn….