Benefits of low expectations

Ignorance is bliss, and low expectations are a path to happiness.

Sort of.

The term "low expectations" is not a particularly positive one. Nobody thinks that kids should be taught to "aim low!" or "don't dream big, cause you'll only be disappointed!" That feels sad, doesn't it? That sounds like giving up. That sounds like loser talk.

But at the same time, optimism is encouraged. Looking at the glass as half full, and having low expectations, are not very different viewpoints. If you have low expectations, then you're thrilled and grateful that the glass is half full. If you're a high achiever and expect a lot out of life, the glass is unacceptably empty.

Wouldn't we be happier if we accepted ourselves the way we are, instead of striving to better ourselves? Wouldn't we more content if we just live within our means and keep the dead end job forever, instead of constantly struggling to move up a rung?

Yeah, I suppose so. Maybe temporarily, anyways. One of my greatest fears is getting to the end of my life and wondering what the hell I wasted it on. I don't want to be old and wonder why I never did anything special or great or interesting with my life. I don't want to be frail and infirm and cursing my young self for thinking I "couldn't" do something. Because the truth is, I can do a whole lot of stuff, but I need to raise my own bar. Happiness schmappiness.

For instance, I was pretty proud of myself this morning because I was able to successfully rouse myself in bed to be able to make it to work on time, even though I had several drinks the night before. I realized I was congratulating myself in the shower for having performed this feat. And then it hit me: that is a pretty low goal to achieve. Getting up for work does not get you a gold star. Had I, say, gotten up and worked out and gotten some shit accomplished early in the morning despite being hung over, that would be something worth congratulating myself.

And that's when I realized that I have some pretty low expectations for myself these days.

Oftentimes I just want to do something extreme. Like start working out every day, but not just 30 minutes a day or an hour a day, but like 4 hours a day. I like getting obsessed with stuff. I like feeling like I'm making a monumental change in my life. But lately I've been pretty content with "getting to work every day."

But at the same time, I've also felt pretty happy. I haven't been berating myself for not being Superwoman. I have been living a pretty enjoyable existence lately.

Do I really want to start torturing myself? I seem to have a problem weighing the pros and cons of working really hard at something. Anything. In the past, I've worked really hard on something for years and it never worked out. Now I don't try very hard at anything and my life is pretty good. Society has groomed me into the perfect automaton, a good little worker drone who is happy with working and consuming and sleeping and not doing much of anything else.

I wish I had a time machine right about now. I would go to the future and ask my old self what I did with my life and whether or not it was a good choice.

I could drop dead tomorrow... does that mean I should hurry up and start achieving something before I hit the dust, or does that mean I should enjoy myself?

Life is confusing.