Hope ≠ Expectation

How often do you "hope" for something... only to find yourself deeply disappointed when it doesn't happen? Maybe you're hoping someone in your life will change. I could be a partner, challenging boss, difficult family member, or friend. Maybe you're hoping a difficult situation will get better. You're navigating a health challenge, financial stress, strained relationship, or some other season you desperately want to end. Or maybe you're beginning something exciting, like a new job, new exercise program, learning adventure. Maybe it's the first day of vacation or holiday. Heck, maybe you’re trying a new hairstyle.

You have this picture in your mind of how it will unfold. And then... WHOMP WHOMP. It doesn't. Cue the disappointment, frustration, anger, sadness, and the questions like...

• Why did this happen?

• Why did they do that?

• Why didn't they understand?

• Why didn't this work?

• Why did it turn out this way?

• WHY?!

I've been thinking lately about the difference between hope and expectation. They're related but they are not the same.

Hope desires an outcome while making room for uncertainty. I can deeply desire something and still recognize that I don't control how (or even if) it unfolds. Hope requires some humility. Some openness. Some willingness to believe that the ending may look different from the one I've imagined.

Expectation also desires an outcome, but there's an assumption attached to it. This should happen. They should respond this way. This should work. My vacation should be relaxing. My team should know what I need. My spouse should understand. And when reality doesn't match the script? We feel disappointed.

Now, disappointment isn't proof that we've done something wrong. Hope can certainly leave us disappointed too. But I've found disappointment can be a wonderful clue. It gives us an opportunity to ask: Was I hoping for something... or had I quietly decided how this was supposed to turn out?

That's where I notice the difference.

Expectation often asks: Why didn't this happen the way I wanted?

Hope leaves a little more room to ask: What now?

What can this teach me? What is within my control? What other possibilities exist? What might become possible because this didn't unfold the way I imagined? Consider a strained relationship with a family member. You can hope for reconciliation. You can remain open to the possibility that your relationship may someday look different. But that's very different from waiting for that person to change. Because now your peace isn't contingent upon their transformation. You can accept what is true today while remaining hopeful about what could be true tomorrow. There's freedom in that.

And I wonder how many of us could experience a little more peace if we loosened our grip on some of the expectations we're carrying. Expectations of ourselves. Expectations of other people. Expectations of how quickly something should happen. Expectations of what this particular season of life was supposed to look like.

So here's my question for you, friend: Where in your life might you be calling something "hope" that's actually an expectation? And what would it look like to release your grip on the outcome...

Accept what is true today... And remain open to what tomorrow might bring?

Breath in Hope. Release Expectation.

Choose one situation in your life where you're not sure whether you're holding hope or expectation. Maybe it's a relationship. A goal. Something at work. Something you're waiting to happen.

Close your eyes and imagine that it doesn't turn out the way you want. Don't analyze it yet. Notice your body.

Does your chest tighten? Does your stomach clench? Do your shoulders rise? Do you immediately feel an urge to fix, control, explain, or change something?

Just notice. Then place a hand somewhere on your body that feels grounding—your heart, belly, or even your legs.

Take a slow breath in and say: I breathe in hope. Exhale slowly and say: I release the expectation.

Again… I breathe in openness. I release control.

Continue for five slow breaths.

Then ask yourself: What can I accept as true today while remaining open to what tomorrow may bring?

You don't have to stop wanting something. You don't have to stop caring. You're simply practicing holding the outcome with an open hand instead of a clenched fist.