Like plants in the garden, words can show many faces. The delicate petals of a rose may be surrounded by needle-sharp thorns, and a handsomely coloured berry may have flesh too sour to eat. In the same way a word can convey a certain meaning in one context, but used in another way it may even indicate the opposite. The word ‘expect’ is an example. If, while we stand admiring the greenery the wind starts to pick up and dark clouds cover the sky, we might tell our friend that we may expect rain: from the circumstances it is an outcome one could anticipate. When the ego gets involved, though, ‘expect’ can communicate something different – a feeling of entitlement or a demand. For example, imagine a stiff encounter between two people in the street, in which one says, “Why do you behave this way? I expect you to greet me politely.” Here, the expectation is seen as a rule – self-made, perhaps, but in any case there will be consequences for the one who breaks it.

To be engaged in such a demand-expectation is like being enveloped in a thick cover, sometimes as dense and rigid as a suit of armour, that keeps us out of touch from the present moment; the breeze playfully dancing in the garden cannot touch us. It also means that, to a greater or lesser degree, we are headed toward disappointment, since events seldom turn out just as we want. From such a situation it is easy to fall into the habit – or one could say succumb to the chronic illness – of disappointment, and it is difficult to struggle forward on the spiritual path from the gloomy swamp of self pity.

We are often unaware of the burden of expectations that we carry, both demands of the world around us and of ourselves, but it is important to look for them and try to free ourselves, so that we float more lightly on the stream of life. There are two remedies that can help: the first is to develop our sense of justice. People generally look at the world from a very biased point of view, but as we find in Gayan Boulas, “Before trying to know the justice of God, one must oneself become just.” If we feel disappointment over something, we could ask ourselves: what was our expectation? And was it just, something that we truly deserve? And would we wish it for others? Would we be happy to see someone else receive that which we claimed for ourselves?

The second remedy is trust arising from our love for the divine ideal, the attitude which the Sufis call tawwakul. The sword of justice cuts away the arrogant covers, and we learn to recognize many of our claims as selfish and foolish. When the sword has cut enough and we have no pretences left, when we are in a state of sacred poverty, what remains is to trust in God, accepting whatever comes with gratitude, for whether it is sweet or sour, we are sure that it comes from the Hand of the Beloved.