This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video The Paradox of Practice. Working with Expectations.. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The Paradox of Practice. Working with Expectations - Diana Clark

The following talk was given by Diana Clark at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on March 26, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

The Paradox of Practice. Working with Expectations

Welcome everyone. Nice to see you all and to practice together.

Tonight I wanted to talk a little bit about some attitudes that we might bring to practice that might unknowingly have a big impact. We might not even know that we have them, and yet their influence is really great, not only in our practice but in our life. We can see them and maybe work with them in a particular way with our meditation practice.

One attitude, in particular, is one that—of course we have it living in these modern times—is this mindset or idea that it is important that we are always making progress. We have to be moving forward. We have this idea that we have to always be improving, moving closer and closer to achieving something, advancing, developing, or getting better. You get this idea, right? The sense that we have to be going forward.

Of course, we have this idea. There is a developmental model of human development that says as we age, in theory, we are maturing, getting wiser, and learning things. But not only that, we have a society that promotes that. How many podcasts and YouTube videos are about how to fix yourself or be more productive? How many apps are all about this kind of thing? When I was working in Corporate America, there was a developmental plan for the people that reported to me. "Here are some of the things to work on. If you want to get a promotion, here is what to do."

Of course, we bring that to our meditation practice too. But that only works until it doesn't. And it actually doesn't work nearly as well as we think it should.

We often bring this idea that when we are meditating, somehow we should be making things happen. We have this sense of movement or progress, thinking, "Certainly I'm getting better or learning something," or, "Something is going to be different now." Or we have this sense that even if I'm not making things happen, I should have some kind of special experience because I'm sitting down to meditate. Whatever type of meditation practice you do—here primarily we teach mindfulness—we might have this feeling that because I'm doing this practice, something special should happen. Even if we aren't clear on what this special thing should be, it should be special.

Or maybe we have the idea—maybe it's not even clearly articulated in our minds—that whatever it is, it shouldn't be how it was before. It should be different, easier, or not having anything difficult or uncomfortable.

The Subtle Agitation of Expectation

Here is what happens, and this is really subtle. This is partly why I mentioned that we can see it in our meditation practice when often we can't see it in our daily life. If we have this expectation, this attitude that we should always be making progress, then that introduces a subtle bit of agitation. Whatever is happening right now is not quite good enough. We have to be better. There has to be this way, and somehow it has to be different than how it was before.

There can be this sense of, "Yeah, well, this isn't good enough. I should be progressing." Whatever it is we are experiencing, there is often this subtle little sense of, "Yeah, okay, whatever, but what's next? Are we there yet? Am I there yet?"

This little subtle agitation is kind of like we are always looking to what is next. "There has to be something better, or I should be whatever is going to happen next." This subtle little agitation shows up in so many different ways that we don't even notice it. In fact, it might be so prevalent in our experience that we don't even notice it, or we think, "Of course it's there. I can't be with this present moment. Don't be ridiculous, Diana."

There is this way in which we always need to be thinking about the next thing or somehow have this expectation that it should be better, or we should be moving forward. We might say this agitation is a subtle form of disappointment. "Oh, this again?" Even if it is a little bit better than before, I still don't feel like I'm completely awakened. I'm not a Buddha yet. So there is this subtle form of disappointment.

The Gap Between Mind and Reality

What is disappointment? Disappointment arises when our expectations aren't met. But what are expectations? One way we might consider expectations is that we come up with a scenario in our mind. It exists 100% in our minds, in the same way that we have that fleeting thought like, "Oh, those are nice shoes," or, "Maybe I'll have a sandwich for lunch." These are just thoughts that arise and pass away. How many thoughts do we have throughout the day? Countless.

But some of those thoughts are about what should happen. We have painted a scenario 100% in the mind. It is based on experience, so we aren't crazy having this, but still, it is 100% in our minds. It has the same substance, the same durability, the same fleetingness or lack of substantiality as the thoughts of, "Oh, I have to remember to pick up milk when I get home," or, "Why is that person driving so slowly?" or, "I wonder if my favorite podcast has a new episode?"

Expectations are our having a thought and then transposing it onto the experience. There is what is happening with the body—experiences, sensations, emotions—and then on top of it is something that just got cooked up in our minds. And there is a gap. Of course, there is a gap. How could there not be? We never know 100% exactly how everything is going to be; everything is always a little bit different.

This gap is where this sense of agitation or disappointment comes from. Not only do we have this thought of how the present moment should be, accompanying that thought is the idea that there should be no gap between what is actually happening and the thoughts we have about it. In some ways, there is this sense that somehow our experience should change to match what is in our minds. There is this agitation when it doesn't happen.

The truth is, what is happening is what is happening. The experience that we have in the body right now—the pressure of the chair or the cushion against the body, the sounds of my voice, the visual things that we are seeing—that is what is happening. Also, there are thoughts in the mind. But there is a way in which, without our really being aware of it, we have this expectation that things should match what is in our minds. When they don't, there is a sense of agitation.

Our experiences won't change at that moment. That moment is the experience as it is. Of course, it is going to change the next moment, but it is not going to change to precisely match our expectation. It is not going to change to make that subtle sense of agitation go away. It is not going to change to protect us from the feeling of disappointment, frustration, impatience, or anger that arises when what is in our mind doesn't match our present moment experience.

For example, not too long ago I was driving in the East Bay, and I had this expectation for how long it should take me to get to where I was going. As it happened, the entire freeway, Highway 680, was closed. I guess they were doing some planned construction, so it was closed for the entire weekend. The traffic was very different than I expected. Just because I had this sense of, "Okay, it should take this long," but in fact, it was really taking much longer, it wasn't going to change. It wasn't going to take me any faster just because I had the idea.

My saying this seems silly, but it is funny how sometimes we have this idea that if I get angry enough, maybe it will change. If I get emotional enough, maybe it will change. If I'm disappointed enough, if I complain enough... We have this idea that somehow strong emotions are required, appropriate, or necessary when we feel this gap between what is actually happening and our idea about what is happening.

It doesn't matter what emotions we have; it is still going to be exactly how it is. Maybe now there will be emotions with what is happening, but it doesn't make it move to meet our expectations.

Working with Expectations in Practice

Meditation is a place where we can look at this, explore it, and play with it because not only do we have these things about how long it takes to get somewhere, but we also might have giant expectations that show up in our lives and bring agitation.

For example, we might have an expectation that somebody else is going to make us happy, heal us, or make us feel whole—whether that somebody else is an intimate relationship, a psychotherapist, a spiritual teacher, or a good friend. We might have this idea that somebody else is going to solve whatever we feel needs to be solved. This expectation is not often explicit; most often it is hidden underneath a number of layers. Maybe we might say, "Of course we have this expectation too." How many romantic comedies, romance novels, or fairy tales support this idea?

I think all of us have had relationships that don't meet our expectations. Sometimes that is okay, and we work with it, mature, and grow. Sometimes it turns out to be something really stressful for us and the other person. This idea of the expectations we have—the attitudes that we have toward so many things in life—just leads to this agitation that can be really obvious or really subtle. It is a disappointment that this present moment isn't precisely how I thought it should be.

This practice of mindfulness is teaching us how we can cultivate the conditions so there can be the arising of an unagitated heart. We create the conditions in which there can be some ease and no longer this expectation—or if there are expectations, no longer any agitation about noticing when the gap is there.

It turns out that this is so much what practice is about. We don't talk about this explicitly a lot; we just emphasize coming back to the present moment. But part of the power of mindfulness practice is that by repeatedly returning again and again to whatever is the present moment—independent of whether it is what we want or what we expected, just coming back to the truth of the experience—then somehow the thoughts we had about it stop being as important. They stop being as authoritative. It is like, "Okay, yeah, that is just the mind doing what the mind does, but this moment is like this."

Just returning again and again to the present moment experience causes the agitation of the present moment not meeting our expectations to soften and go away. This is what mindfulness practice is about: being able to bring all of ourselves to whatever is happening. Maybe we could even say especially if it doesn't meet our expectations, because in this gap between what is actually happening and our expectations is where there is a lot of room for strong emotions. We can slip into losing touch with the wisest versions of ourselves, falling into anger, frustration, sadness, or disappointment.

Recognizing and Allowing

Mindfulness practice is about seeing things as they really are, not about getting anywhere. So often we want to use it to support us and make our lives better—and it can and it will. But part of the way it makes our lives better is to help us more and more to be with what is actually happening. Even if it is uncomfortable, even if it is exactly what we didn't want, the truth is that it is there. Our trying to wish it otherwise just leads to a life of agitation.

If you have moments of great irritation—maybe because your expectations weren't being met—with mindfulness practice, you are learning how to be present with that irritation. "Oh, irritation feels like this restlessness in the legs." Or for me, sometimes I get restlessness in my arms; I'll be sitting here quietly, but there is this energy in the arms. Or maybe this sense of irritation feels like some tightening in the throat or clenching of the jaw. These are subtle bodily experiences. While we are in meditation, we can just notice, "Oh yeah, irritation is like this."

We take the next breath as best we can. We come back to the sensations of breathing, and we have this sense of, "Okay, I have this container until the timer goes off. I guess I'm just going to be with irritation." As we get practice with being with these uncomfortable sensations, the "problem" drains out of those situations. Yes, irritation feels like this; it is uncomfortable, and it is not a problem.

Just imagine what your life would be like if all the uncomfortableness that we encounter in just having a human body and being in this society wasn't a problem. It is just uncomfortable. With this practice, we are increasing our capacity to be with uncomfortableness. But how many times are we agitated or doing things thoughtlessly, with a whole bunch of emotion behind it, simply because we are uncomfortable?

Meditation is not about trying to get anywhere else. It is about allowing yourself to be exactly where you are, as you are. As we do that, the expectations just kind of melt away. As that gap goes away, the expectations go away.

Allowing ourselves to be just as we are allows us to be more open to others as well—allowing others to be the way that they are. I am not saying that we have to accept absolutely everything and that there aren't injustices in the world. I am not saying that. I am saying that we can bring the wisest versions of ourselves if we can stay in the uncomfortableness.

We have aspirations, of course. We want to make positive change in ourselves and in the world. We want to improve our lives and other people's lives. Of course, we want to do that. I am not saying we have to give up all of our aspirations or goals. To improve the lot of the world is appropriate. But it turns out that just by sitting and being with ourselves—whether it is comfortable or uncomfortable—in this small but not insignificant way, you already have made a difference. You have decreased the amount of agitation in yourself and in the world. You have decreased the amount of discomfort, frustration, anger, or impatience just by being with your experience wholeheartedly, recognizing and allowing it to be there.

The Paradox

The paradox is that being with things how they are is how we change the world. It is how we change ourselves.

This is a paradox because, of course, we have this idea that "I have to do things." But if we get out of our own way and give ourselves over to the present moment, trusting in this recognizing and allowing without pursuing anything at all—the sense that nothing needs to happen—it is very counterintuitive. When we give up this sense that we are trying to make something special, putting down this idea that things have to be different and letting go of wanting something better, and instead just be here, then we can maybe realize that something special is already occurring.

It is our life that is occurring. It is the present moment that is occurring. It is our capacity to meet what is arising with some openness, clear-headedness, and open-heartedness. That turns out to be quite special. People respond to this. We respond to it ourselves, but people around us respond too. They notice, "Oh, this person is actually here and present and not busy with themselves but can meet with what is arising." Don't underestimate how powerful and transformative this can be.

One way to describe this, which I first heard on a retreat years ago and had such a big impact on me, is this: We have this idea that we want to get to point B. Maybe we are not even clear what point B is; it is just something better. I'll tell you exactly how to get to point B:

Be completely at Point A.

That is how you get to point B.

Can we put aside or soften this attitude of "there has to be something better"? Maybe it begins by just recognizing how often this shows up in our lives. Can we notice that attitude and gently investigate it? Maybe it shows up in a really obvious way in your meditation practice, like being really ambitious and striving. Instead, recognize this balance or paradox: have the goal be to not have that goal.

Can we have this sense of having an aspiration, a sense of what is possible for us and for the world, and at the same time just be simply with what is? Not abandoning our aspirations, but noticing how that creates some agitation. Showing up and being present for what is really here is a way that can help us get there—wherever "there" is.

Discussion

Question: It is sort of an observation, but one of the things that kept coming to my mind that you didn't use is "control." I find in my practice and my life that if I have the illusion of control, everything is okay. But it is the loss of control that is really hard for us to deal with.

Diana: I would agree 100%. Is there much worse than the feeling of complete helplessness? We like to perpetuate this idea of being in control, but we are not in control as much as we think we are, and that is very uncomfortable when we realize that. I think you are pointing to something that is really powerful and important.

Question: I think you said to get to point B, just be completely present in point A. But what do you trust in to get to point B? I know this is probably the paradox, but it is maybe also in line with the question about control. What do you put your faith in?

Diana: Right, if we could control things, we wouldn't ever have this gap between our expectations and our experience. We envisioned it exactly how it should be, and it is usually not that. So if we really could control things, there would not be this gap.

So what do we put our trust in if we can't control and make things happen? How do things happen? This is an excellent question, and it would be great if I had a really simple answer for you that would make you feel better. But I know part of this practice is really deeply experiencing that we don't control as much as we think we do, and that being okay. In fact, it is a little bit of a relief, because trying to control everything is exhausting.

Question: When you were talking about the gap, is that all the emotions that we are dealing with? The metaphor for traffic, we can apply it to everything that we deal with in life. When it doesn't meet the expectation, then we have to deal with frustration. Can we put it in this category that it is the emotion dealing with our thinking?

Diana: Of course, emotions arise when we have this experience. Sometimes the experience is the emotion. I've given talks on this, but I can say just really briefly: recognize, "Oh, there is an emotion that is happening," and as best you can, allow it. "Oh, I feel angry." Instead of piling on "I shouldn't feel angry," say, "Okay, here is anger." Feel it in the body. Anger often has heat, a flushing, or an energy wanting to move.

Then I will say "tease apart." So RAFT: Recognize, Allow, Feel in the body, and Tease apart¹ what is actually happening from your reaction to what is happening.

If that feels like way too complicated—all these steps to be with emotions—something very simple is to feel your feet on the ground and bring your attention to the breath in a relaxed, easy way. As best you can, instead of beating ourselves up that we should be able to handle or be with whatever emotion.

Question: What comes up for me with being fully in point A is how we hope to practice empathy with other people. Whenever a friend or family member comes to you and confides in you about their problems, typically we want to have control; we want to say, "You should do this." But being fully in the moment with that loved one is so powerful. They feel that you are just there with them, not trying to fix them. By being there fully, not trying to solve or control everything, that might be what they would need to get to point B. If we can extend that level of empathy to ourselves—which sometimes actually might be harder than extending it to other people—maybe that is a way I am interpreting this talk.

Diana: That is very nice and a very wise way to do that. Sometimes we have this sense of, "How do I help take care of myself?" Well, you know how to take care of others; do the same thing for yourself.

Question: Several things came to mind. One is that subtle, corrosive, chronic sort of dissatisfaction, or that difference between our expectation and reality. "Corrosive" is a really important word. Also, regarding the "tease apart" in RAFT—discriminating between what is happening and our reaction. Maybe we are mad that we are mad; a second-order frustration. I never really understood the tease part before.

Finally, when you are aware that you have an experience or emotion coming up in your meditation, or just the perceptions of the body, how verbal are you in that awareness? Are you narrating your experience? That seems kind of tiresome. Is there a best practice?

Diana: This is a good question. Often it depends on how agitated one is. If there is just a subtle sense of agitation, then there is a way in which the mind can just feel without putting a label or a concept on it—just noticing the sensations. But if the mind is really edgy—"I can't believe they did that"—then it might be really helpful to say in the mind, "pressure," just to bring the mind back. Then the mind will go again, and you say, "inhale." Saying these words in the mind is a support to help bring the mind back. Eventually, the mind will calm down. It gives the mind something to do, replacing the agitation.

And I love this word "corrosive." I think that is such a great word.