Frustration is something we all encounter, isn’t it? It sneaks into our lives when we least expect it, often in moments when we feel powerless over situations we thought we controlled. Recently, I found myself reflecting on this emotion and how it arises in my life. Perhaps, as I share this story, it might resonate with your own experiences.
For me, frustration often stems from unmet expectations—a mismatch between what I envision and what reality delivers. This realization became particularly clear during an interaction with my dog, Reedy. Let me tell you about her.
Reedy is 14 and a half years old, a senior dog who has been a faithful companion through many seasons of life. Over the last six months, she’s lost her hearing, which has required both of us to adapt. She relies entirely on hand gestures and body language now. Despite these changes, she’s taught me an invaluable lesson about frustration—one I wasn’t expecting.
As part of my daily routine, I work from home, often in my office. It’s a warm, cozy space that I hoped Reedy would enjoy during the colder months. But no matter how comfortable I tried to make it, she just wouldn’t settle in. She’d pace, whine, and eventually leave, only to return moments later. I tried everything—gentle words, treats, pats on the head—but nothing worked. It was frustrating.
I found myself growing more impatient each time she repeated this cycle. The frustration welled up, tightening in my stomach and affecting my mood. But then, I paused to reflect. Why was I feeling this way? Why was I expecting her to behave as she did years ago when she was younger, more agile, and could hear my voice?
The truth hit me: I was the author of my own frustration. I was clinging to an unrealistic expectation—one that didn’t align with her current abilities or needs. My frustration didn’t stem from Reedy’s actions; it stemmed from my refusal to adapt to her reality.
This realization prompted a shift. Instead of trying to make her stay in my office, I began opening the door for her whenever she wanted to leave. Yes, it meant extra trips back and forth, but it eased both her fretting and my frustration. By reframing the situation and adjusting my expectations, I found peace in what had previously been a source of tension.
This small moment with Reedy made me think about other areas of life where frustration arises. Often, it’s rooted in circumstances beyond our control—traffic, delays, or the actions of others. When we hold onto unrealistic expectations, we set ourselves up for disappointment and, ultimately, frustration. But what if we approached these situations differently? What if we stepped back, caught our breath, and asked: “What can I do to make a difference here?”
Sometimes, the answer is nothing. And that’s okay. There’s no point in getting worked up over things we can’t change. Other times, the answer lies in trying a different approach, much like I did with Reedy.
Frustration can spill over into our interactions with others, too. When we carry the weight of our unmet expectations into new situations, it can affect how we treat those around us. To truly live as kind and loving individuals, we must acknowledge the source of our frustration and let go of the things we cannot control.
Life is filled with opportunities to reflect, adapt, and grow. My experience with Reedy reminded me of an important truth: we are infinitely precious and unconditionally loved, just as we are. So are the people we meet, the creatures we care for, and the world around us. When we embrace this perspective, we can approach life’s challenges with greater grace and compassion.
If frustration creeps into your life, take a moment to pause. Ask yourself if your expectations align with reality. If they don’t, consider adjusting them. If they do and things still aren’t working, perhaps it’s time to try a new approach. Either way, remember this: you have the ability to choose how you respond.
Until next time, may you find peace in the midst of life’s challenges. You are infinitely precious and unconditionally loved for the gift you already are.
Infinitely Precious 