On lack of expectations.

My little brother and sister-in-law gifted us tickets to a concert at Chautauqua in July, the week after dropping our youngest off at college. {such a thoughtful gesture in its own right} They picked out an evening with ukulele musician Jake Shimabukuro completely unknown to me, but fully trusting my music-loving little brother’s taste. Truth be told, I didn’t even google Jake before we sat down in our seats. In taking my own favorite piece of advice without realizing it, I showed up with a blank slate. Zero expectations. No pre-conceived ideas. Ah such a gift! Beyond the extraordinary music he played, I was moved to tears by watching the immense joy in which Jake made his music. The whole night was filled with unexpected joyful moments and surprising places that held my attention. Jake’s humble words about the songs he wrote and played; his radiant expression while strumming his ukulele; and realizing how nothing moves me more than watching someone do what they love with all their heart. Almost makes me cry now just thinking about it. Had I prescribed a path in my mind for what this evening would have been like, I would not have noticed or appreciated these beautiful nuances both outwardly and inwardly. I loved this personal reminder of the gift of an open road, ready to move me in any direction; and as an affirmation to my favorite piece of advice for anyone coming to a Makerie retreat to leave those expectations behind.

I’ll leave you with my favorite song from that evening, titled Ichi-go ichi-e {ee-chi-go, ee-chi-i}, the Japanese concept of treasuring the unrepeatable nature of a moment. No two are ever the same, are they?