Year on year my expectations tend to shrink back rather more than the spring forwards that I projected as a youth. Maybe it’s a sign of getting older and admitting that although it’s good to have goals, they can’t all be met. Balancing my expectations and of those around me is far harder to do with as each new decade dawns.
Getting older shouldn’t mean that I try to excel less or not have any goals. That would be criminal. But by having excessive expectations placed upon you can ultimately bring about your undoing and when that happens there’s nowhere to hide and no-one to blame but yourself. That feeling of over-reaching is like quicksand – once in, it’s very hard to pull yourself out with any dignity.
If I’ve learnt anything in my time it’s not to try to be everything to everyone. By not allowing others to expedite me into the expectations they believe I should be forging, frees my approach. But then my biggest enemy has always been myself – I dive headlong into the quicksand when I should be skirting the edges. Finding the balance is no mean feat.