When I proposed giving away all of the books we had read, I’ll be honest. I expected a horde of people pulling up at 11 a.m. and devouring all of the books we had put out on benches alongside a sign Maria made that read “Good Books Free.”

There were a lot of them.

I’m not sure why I was arrogant enough to expect my books would all be gone in seconds, but around noon I turned to Maria and said, “well, I think this is going to be a bust.” She laughed at me.

Yet another lesson about grandiosity, delusion, and dangerously selfish expectations. These have plagued me all of my life. The more I look at myself, the more work I have to do. That is a realistic expectation.

As it turned out, our little book fair was lovely, and more than half of the many books we put out were gone by 3 p.m. There were no crowds or hordes of people, just the occasional SUV pulling up to browse slowly and carefully and pick up some novels, history books, or children’s.

There were only two shopping bags of books left when we closed down – it was freezing and windy today, the coldest day of the season so far – and we have made plans to drop the rest off at the Williamstown, Mass. Public Library.

They have a trendy and popular bookstore that sells used books in good shape. We’ll donate ours.

I was disappointed at first, complaining that this was a bad idea.

But at the end of the day, I was left wondering why I have so many expectations and why they are too often selfish – about me – and not the good deeds I sometimes get delusional about. I was more concerned with the small but interested crowd that I was about offering the books without any strings attached.

A big crowd was not what made the book giveaway special or well worth doing.

The book sale was great; all the children’s books were gone, and most of my favorite novels were. I was happy to think about the pleasure we offered others; nothing was disappointing.

I am humbled – by hard times, distractions, and people’s struggles – and determined to work to lower my expectations or eliminate them altogether.

My grandmother, with whom I was close,  was a peasant from Ukraine, but she seemed to think she was the Queen of England at times, superior to almost everyone. My mother picked up this delusion and passed it along to me.

My problem was that I always thought I was inferior to everybody else – the idea got twisted around in me – but I think this trait showed up as unrealistic expectations and narcissism.

My expectations about m life led to my rather spectacular crack-up just before I met Maria. When your life begins to disintegrate around you, the reality is the only feasible course.

At times, I was a big shot – a movie made about my life, New York Times bestsellers, jobs on TV, big newspapers,  interviews, book tours with big crowds – but I am not one now, and was never won on the inside.

I never bought that image; it wasn’t me. But I do often expect more than I need to expect or ought to expect.

I remembered that Thomas Merton wrote something I dug out today that was painfully relevant when I read it. “To consider persons and events and situations only in the light of their effect upon myself is to live on the doorstep of Hell. Selfishness is doomed to frustration, centered as it is upon a lie. To live exclusively for myself, I must make all things bend themselves to my will as if I were a god. But this is impossible.”

This rang very true to me. I both fear the spiritual life that saves my soul but teaches me that I am not done and will never be done.

I can’t control the world, not even my own body. When I give it pleasure or care, it deceives my expectation and rewards me with pain. When my expectations are too high, as they often are, I am also rewarded with disappointment and a sense of failure.

Giving these books away was a fine idea, and the afternoon was successful period. Even if only one child got a book they loved, it would have been a success.

I don’t want to live on the doorstep of Hell (I love the term, Merton had a great way with words).

Delusional and high expectations are on my list of spiritual challenges,  I will be working on both. The list sometimes shrinks a bit, but always bounces back.

The Book Give-a-way went very well, it felt very good; now that I see it clearly, it was more than I had any right to expect.

How curious life is sometimes. I set so many traps for myself and then step right into them.