Expectation Therapy: Mastering Your Expectations - Softcover

Costello, Art

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1504355504 ISBN 13: 9781504355506

Verlag: BalboaPress, 2016

Über diesen Titel

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Expectation Therapy

Mastering Your Expectations

By Art Costello

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2016 Art Costello
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5550-6

Contents

Preface, vii, 
Introduction: Expectations (The Origins of Success), ix, 
Chapter 1: Expectations and Personal Growth, 1, 
Chapter 2: What Are Expectations?, 15, 
Chapter 3: Emotional Intelligence, 28, 
Chapter 4: Harnessing Expectations and Creating Passion, 47, 
Chapter 5: Setting the Most Important Expectations: Self-Expectations!, 73, 
Chapter 6: Expectations and Others, 83, 
Conclusion, 97, 
Postscript, 99, 
Preview: Quantum Expectations, 103, 
References and Works Cited, 107, 

CHAPTER 1

Expectations and Personal Growth

Learning to Harness Adversity for the Better

The first step in the expectation therapy model is to identify and clarify your core expectations. This stage frequently involves soul searching and introspection. It is a phase many of us naturally go through as adolescents, but this reflective process can occur at any age. As I recount my journey, think about how similar formative experiences may have shaped your expectations. Also, ponder the expectations that excite your passion and stir your spirit in the present moment.

My parents didn't set high expectations for my siblings and me. I grew up in a suburban town in New Jersey, and my father was responsible and hardworking five days a week — at least with his job. However, he was distant from the family. From 5:00 p.m. on Friday until 8:00 a.m. on Monday, he was blitzed. In other words, he was what I'd call a functional alcoholic. All of us had our fair share of drama as I and my siblings dealt with the consequences of our relatively expectation-free existence. However, my grandfather also lived with us and was a very entrepreneurial man. I believe I gained some of my positive habits of mind from him.

From my birth until age nine, my life wasn't too difficult. As the middle child in the family, I had a special enthusiasm when it came to baseball. My uncles taught me the basics until I was old enough to play Little League. I practically idolized Duke Snider and the Brooklyn Dodgers. In fact, I spent every spare minute being active outside, which encouraged my grandfather's influence.

Back in the 1950s, there were ads plastered on the backs of comic books. My eyes zeroed in on a certain offer: if I mailed in a coupon, I would receive Christmas cards that I could then sell. The revenue was divvied up between me and the mail-order company. I was just shy of my seventh birthday at the time, but it was my first experience as a budding entrepreneur. The cash was mostly pocket change, but it was enough.

That experience taught me to be fearless. My parents didn't go with me when I sold. I was this cute little kid (probably missing a couple of baby teeth) going door-to-door in hopes of making a sale. I persistently walked up and down our street, zipping to and fro with optimistic hopes of making a sale.

I'll never forget one particular man. He put his hands on his hips after answering the door and said, "Well, you're a feisty little guy!"

"Yes, sir!" I went on to give him my spiel, and he bought a few boxes from me. Feeling satisfied with the day's winnings, I turned around to leave with pep in my step.

"Wait a sec," the man told me. "How would you like to have a paper route? I'm the manager of the newspaper's sales division around here, and I like your stuff."

I explained that although it sounded fun, I wasn't old enough. I had to be at least ten years old, after all.

The man smiled, undeterred. "Eh, we can overlook that. You obviously have the drive and enjoy what you're doing. Tell ya what — I can start you up with ten customers, and we will see how you do."

With hard work, he explained, I could build my route to encompass more homes. In fact, in my first year, I took my route from 10 customers to 165. I was positively ecstatic about it, even hiring my brother (who was eight years my senior) to help me out on Sunday because the newspapers were so heavy and bulky. He didn't complain — I was paying him. Even from a young age, I was somewhat of a visionary.

In those days, time seemed to move more slowly. When I was nine, Mom sold our house, and we moved into a dilapidated farmhouse in the New York countryside. It was difficult for me to move from everything I knew. I watched the scenery of my hometown shrink in the distance as we drove away. With each mile we traveled, I felt pulled in two different directions. My heart tugged at the skyline that faded behind us.

When we arrived, we were considered outsiders. Longtime rural dwellers eyed us suspiciously and greeted us with stone-cold expressions. We didn't know anybody, and neighbors didn't make an effort to introduce themselves or welcome us. Compounding matters, there was a void in my life where baseball had been. School didn't interest me; there was nothing challenging about it, because I was not a rote memorization type of person. I've always processed information differently. I was very lonely, bored stiff, and disheartened.

However, there was a huge hill next to our house. For me, it was the guardian that kept our farm under its watchful eye. Whenever I looked out my window at the stars, I saw its silhouette (which looked like a reposing giant) on the horizon. Somehow, I felt the familiar tugging sensation I'd felt when we moved from the city. That hill became both my sacred place and my solace.

Whenever I needed to think, I'd hike up that hill, drop down, and sprawl out on my back. It was my special place. While I stared at the azure sky, I felt compelled to speak my heart. It was organic and felt so natural. I began to listen to an inner voice. Having grown up as a Catholic, I knew I was conversing with God — just God and me, close and intimate.

I stared at the wispy cotton clouds lazily floating by, and I asked, "What am I going to become? What will my life be like? Will I get married and have children?"

That hill became the silent witness to my self-awareness. It saw me develop from a boy to a man of faith. It was my portal to a transcendent power. It was a sacred place that seemed to nourish my inner being, strengthening my belief in God, myself, and life. I felt great things were going to come, if I had faith.

Needless to say, it's challenging to have faith when life isn't going one's way. Even though ages nine through sixteen weren't my favorite years of life, they did not leave me bitter. It's during the worst times of life that we have the potential to be tempered into the person we're meant to become. A quote on the website Beyond Ordinary says it well: "God often uses our deepest pain as the launching pad of our greatest calling."

Even negative situations can yield positive lessons. You gain perspective from setbacks, and so much of life is how you perceive it. When you seek to learn from experience, as opposed to cursing your fate, you better yourself. The more you glean from self-reflection and honest examination, the higher your expectations become across the board. You come to love the learning process because of the wisdom and value it has. You also come to realize that with enough self-knowledge and understanding, anything is possible.

Ultimately, the probability of your dreams coming to fruition is a choice you make. Will you put forth the effort to make it happen? I did, in no small measure because I looked at everything as a lesson...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: BalboaPress
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2016
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1504355504
• ISBN 13: 9781504355506
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 122
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: preigu GmbH & Co. KG; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; Niedersachsen; 49078; Deutschland