Should Doesn't Exist

Human brains are absolutely amazing machines, and they are terrific at creating order and solving problems. One reason for that is their ability to anticipate outcomes by manufacturing a list of possible scenarios and then deciding what is the most likely thing to happen as well as what the most desirable outcome is. In other words, the brain comes up with what it thinks SHOULD happen and then it reacts in ways to try to meet that expectation. Because if the expectation is met, the brain feels safe and cozy and just a little smug. It has no threats to deal with because everything turned out just as expected. And the human brain is designed to minimize as many threats as possible. This is why social norms exist and why we can sometimes feel uncomfortable when we experience people acting outside of them or when we ourselves decide to ignore them. 

In the English language (as well as some other languages), "should" is a verb in the subjunctive mood, which, by definition, implies a condition contrary to fact or expresses a wish. You see, "should" doesn't exist, but our brains have convinced us that it does. And honestly, that is where we create a lot of trouble and heartache for ourselves. We believe circumstances should or shouldn't be a certain way and people (ourselves included) should or shouldn't behave in certain ways, and then we pile up regrets and disappointments like autumn leaves that we can jump and roll around in, making ourselves miserable over something that was just make believe in the first place. Some brains are better at dealing with unmet expectations than others, but everyone gets caught in this trap at some point, on some level, and the outcome is never positive. Like Shakespeare said, "Expectation is the root of all heartache." 

The brain invests heavily in the outcomes it has predicted and perceives it as a threat when they aren't met. Then it reacts with frustration, disappointment, sadness, anger, and despair--ranging from light and momentary to deep and debilitating. Whether we're talking about the weather ("It SHOULD be cooler; it's October, for crying out loud."), traffic flow ("The light is green; the car in front of me SHOULD be moving."), parenting ("My kids SHOULD listen to me/pick up their toys/take out the trash/get better grades/etc. etc.), or how people behave in the context of any relationship ("That person SHOULD do things that make me feel good/SHOULD NOT do things that make me feel bad.") From the almost comically minor, to the very seriously major parts of our lives, when unmet expectations rule us, even for a moment, we lose joy. The happier person is the one who learns, through actively disciplining his/her mind, what Terry Prachett said so well, "There isn't a way things should be. There's just what happens and what we do." We are better served and happier if we learn to react to the real things that happen rather than the imagined "shoulds."

I remember very well the first time this lesson began to really sink in for me. I was experiencing the deepest pain of my life, and I literally felt like I couldn't breathe. I hadn't really eaten or slept in weeks. My head was pounding, and I needed to escape the hubbub of the speech and debate tournament happening around me. I retreated to my car during a lull in the contest and allowed my tears to flow freely in rhythm with the rain streaming down from the Arkansas sky. I was speaking out loud to myself and asking why the pain was so intense and wondering if I would survive it. And then, light a lightning bolt, the thought landed: "This is not at all how I think things should be, but SHOULD DOESN'T EXIST and I am grieving for the way I thought things were supposed to be. It doesn't really matter how things were supposed to be. It only matters how things are." It was a game changer. I dried up my face, and marched myself back into the building and carried on with my duties as a parent and contest judge. And from that moment, "Should doesn't exist" kind of became my mantra. I say it to myself, I preach it to my kids, and I share it with friends who are struggling in big and little ways. It's one way of telling my brain to chill. That the threat, like the monster a child perceives under his bed, isn't as big and scary as it seems because what I'm upset about never was real in the first place. 

At the time of this breakthrough in my life, I hadn't thought of the TV show, Frasier, in years. But just recently, I came across a quote from Frasier Crane, the main character of the show, that expresses exactly the thought that struck me in my car on a rainy day in Arkansas: "You're mourning the loss of what you thought your life was going to be. Let it go. Things don't always work out how you plan. That's not necessarily bad. Things have a way of working out anyway." We create heartache for ourselves when we mourn the loss of what we think should be (or should not be). It's true: things don't always work out the way we plan. But also true is that it's not necessarily a bad thing. When we train ourselves to let go of expectations, we create a space to experience joy instead of pain. And we free ourselves up to deal with what actually is rather than expending all our energy on the negative emotions that come from unmet expectations.