Updated: Mar 14, 2020
Have you ever wanted something? I mean REALLY wanted something. The kind of want where you can visualize having it. You know exactly how your senses will be overwhelmed by it. Have you ever expected something and had to wait on it to arrive? Waited on the doorbell to ring? Have you ever expected something for so long that once it arrived, it was unexpected?
That's how life is at times. We all have dreams, aspirations, and goals, and in a perfect world, the path to these is straight. But the world is imperfect and mucky. Frequently we have to work and wait. And occasionally we don't even understand how the work we're doing connects with our expected future.
Sometimes we work and wait so long, we forget the purpose of the working and waiting. Sometimes we lose sight of our expected future because of the fog of our prolonged present.
It took me 10 years to complete my doctorate. I started in summer 2007 and finished in winter 2017. It was a process that I extended through my own choices. I was caught in the fog and lost sight of my vision. It was a process that was extended by the actions of others. My lack of purpose created their lack of importance. I contemplated quitting several times. I no longer expected to graduate. Then my chair told me it was time for my dissertation defense. I was surprised. The thing I'd been working towards for so long had finally arrived... unexpectedly.
Never stop living an expected life. A life where everyday has purpose and meaning. When even a couch surfing day is really about self-care so you can be rejuvenated for whatever comes next. It's living with an understanding that even menial tasks and forgettable moments provide context for your expected future.
When we do this, the expected is never unexpected. We've never given up hope despite whatever reality lies before us. We will struggle, fall, fail, and strain, but we will not be blinded by any of these. Though the path may be winding, the destination never changes.
(C) 2018 The Hope Pusher, LLC | Dr. TJ Jackson