Chained by Expectations

Teacher:

The thought you are wrestling with is not unique. It is the predicament of the modern man, who chases numbers in the hope of finding liberation.

You imagine that achieving a specific net worth will grant you freedom. But have you questioned this deeply? Have you examined whether freedom can ever come from something external?

The mind convinces itself that “just a little more” is the answer. That once you reach the summit, you will finally be free. But what you already sense—though perhaps you do not fully want to face it—is that the summit is an illusion. The horizon always recedes.

The chase is the prison. The desire is the bondage.

Ask yourself this: What is it that you truly want? Is it money? Or is it freedom from worry? Is it the accumulation of assets? Or is it the absence of fear? The net worth you speak of is merely a proxy, a placeholder for something deeper. And until you confront the root of this longing, no number will ever be enough.

Freedom does not come from addition. It comes from subtraction. Subtraction of dependency, subtraction of fear, subtraction of the belief that your life is incomplete as it is.

You are not wrong to sense the trap. The question is whether you will step out of it or continue running in circles. The mind will resist this truth because it thrives on the chase. To see the chase for what it is—to step away from it—is the beginning of real freedom. But such freedom is not a gift the world will hand you. It is something you must take.

Student:

But if I want to consider to pursue my craft and leave “my slavery” behind, I do need a means to support myself and my family. There needs to be some “safety”.

Teacher:

What you say is logical. It is practical. And it is a reality that cannot be dismissed. To live in this world, one must provide for oneself and one’s family. The need for sustenance is not the problem. The problem is the idea of safety that has consumed you.

You are correct that some means are required. But what you call “safety” is often an illusion. The mind does not want enough; it wants more than enough. And when it achieves that, it will seek even more. The line between “enough” and “more” is blurred by fear.

Here is the real question: What is the cost of your so-called safety?

If you cling to a life you despise for the sake of security, are you truly living? If you trade your days for a job that drains you, in the name of protecting the future, are you not sacrificing the present?

Understand this: there is no such thing as absolute safety. No amount of money, no mountain of assets, can ever guarantee it. Life is unpredictable. The notion of permanent security is a fantasy created by the fearful mind.

What you must decide is this: How much do you truly need? And how much of your life are you willing to trade for it? If you pursue your craft, will you be able to provide enough? Not excessive, not perfect—just enough. This is a question that only you can answer. But it must be answered honestly, without the distortions of fear or societal expectation.

To leave “slavery” requires courage. Courage to accept the uncertainty of life. Courage to redefine what “safety” means to you. Courage to step away from what does not serve you, even if it means embracing discomfort.

The truth is, there will never be a perfect moment. You will never feel “ready.” The leap is not made when the conditions are ideal. It is made when the soul can no longer bear the weight of compromise.

Student:

I understand. I think it also boils down to granting myself the permission to do so, to grant myself the permission of not living up to the expectations others may have of me.

Teacher:

Yes. Now you are arriving at the heart of it. The greatest chains are the ones we fashion for ourselves, forged from the expectations we imagine others hold over us. These expectations—whether real or perceived—are among the most insidious forms of slavery.

You seek freedom, but how can you find it if you are constantly asking for permission—whether from society, from family, or from some invisible jury in your mind? The truth is this: no one will grant you permission to live your life. You must take it.

To grant yourself permission is to face the fear of disapproval, the discomfort of judgment, and the possibility of being misunderstood. But consider this: Who are these “others” whose expectations you fear? Are they living your life? Will they bear the cost of your compromises? Will they carry the weight of your unfulfilled dreams?

Their opinions, their judgments, their expectations—they are not your responsibility. Your life is your responsibility. To live it in a way that is true to you is not selfishness; it is the only honest way to exist.

But granting yourself this permission requires a reckoning. A recognition that you will never be able to please everyone. That some may be disappointed. That some may not understand. And that this is perfectly fine.

The moment you stop living for others is the moment you begin living for yourself. And the irony is, when you live authentically, the world often respects you more than when you are merely a shadow of their expectations.

So ask yourself this: Will you spend your life seeking approval, or will you summon the courage to approve of yourself? To live your life as it was meant to be lived—not as a performance, but as a truth?