Anticipation — A Natural Law of the Human Brain 🧠

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Our human brain 🧠 seems to operate according to certain natural laws.

Who wrote these laws? What is that power? Is it the power we call God? I don’t know.

But what fascinates me is that, from the long journey of human evolution until today, certain patterns of the human brain have remained deeply rooted in us.

Today, I want to talk about one of them:

Anticipation

Anticipation is not simply a wish.

It is the feeling that something is ahead of us — something to wait for, look forward to, work towards, discover, experience, or hope for.

And perhaps the human brain needs this more than we realise.

Just as our body has basic needs — food, water and shelter — our brain has psychological needs too. One of those important needs is having something in the future that pulls us forward.

A holiday coming up.
Meeting someone you love.
A goal you are working towards.
A book waiting to be read.
A weekend plan.
Learning something new.
Even something as simple as thinking, “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to sit peacefully and have my coffee.” ☕️

The event does not always have to be big.

Sometimes, anticipation itself gives the brain something beautiful:

a reason to look towards tomorrow.

But Aren’t We Supposed to Live in the Present?

We hear this everywhere:

“Live in the present moment. That is the only way to live peacefully.”

Well, there is truth in that — but it is only one perspective.

Haven’t we also heard about taking a holistic approach?

The brain needs balance.

There are times when coming back to the present moment is exactly what we need. When the mind feels burdened by thoughts, when tomorrow is frightening us, when yesterday refuses to leave us alone, or when the brain simply needs some rest, focusing on the present can be incredibly helpful.

Sometimes we need to tell our brain:

“Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Just stay here for a while.”

Breathe.

Drink your coffee.

Look at the sky.

Listen to the person sitting in front of you.

Feel where you are.

But living in the present does not mean having nothing to look forward to.

And this is where anticipation becomes important.

Perhaps we need both:

Be where you are, but have somewhere meaningful to go.

The Brain Needs Short-Term and Long-Term Anticipation

Not every anticipation has to be a life-changing goal.

Our lives are actually filled with tiny anticipations.

I’ll have my coffee after work.

I’m going to read my book tonight.

Someone I love is visiting this weekend.

Friday is coming.

My favourite show is on tonight.

Then there are longer ones.

I’m studying towards something.

I’m saving for a holiday.

I want to learn something.

I’m building my career.

I want to buy a home.

There is somewhere I want to travel.

There is a version of myself I am slowly becoming.

Some anticipations may last a few hours.

Others may carry us for years.

But both provide the brain with something ahead.

So What Does Anticipation Actually Do?

This is where neuroscience becomes fascinating.

Anticipating and pursuing something rewarding engages the brain’s reward and motivation systems, in which dopamine plays an important role.

Dopamine is often called the “happy chemical,” but that description is far too simple.

Dopamine is involved in motivation, learning, reward prediction and goal-directed behaviour.

In very simple words, part of this system helps the brain recognise:

“There is something worth moving towards.”

And I like to understand this through a very simple example.

Imagine you have a road to travel.

There may be all sorts of things happening on that road — stress, responsibilities, disappointments, arguments, bills, tiredness and thousands of thoughts.

The present moment may sometimes feel messy.

But somewhere ahead, you have a destination.

Anticipation gently reminds the brain:

“Yes, all of this is happening right now. But remember — you are going somewhere.”

The destination gives some direction to your steps.

The Brain Needs a “Khunta”

I sometimes imagine the brain needing a khunta — an anchor point.

Not a khunta that imprisons us.

Not something we are tightly tied to.

Just something that gives the wandering mind a direction.

Because the brain naturally wanders.

Give it no direction and it can travel everywhere — yesterday, tomorrow, imaginary conversations, worries, fears, regrets and endless what ifs.

And when nothing meaningful seems to be waiting ahead, sometimes the difficulties sitting right in front of us can begin to feel even bigger.

Anticipation becomes a gentle pull:

“Come this way. We have somewhere to go.”

And that somewhere does not need to impress anybody.

It only needs to mean something to you.

But Don’t Turn Anticipation Into Another Race

There is another side to this.

If anticipation motivates us, we might assume that we should constantly chase something bigger.

A bigger house.

A bigger salary.

A bigger achievement.

A bigger holiday.

A bigger goal.

No.

That is not what I mean.

I imagine our reward system almost like a stretch.

If we continually demand bigger and bigger stimulation to feel satisfied, yesterday’s exciting achievement can quickly become today’s normal.

Then we are no longer enjoying anticipation.

We are chasing stimulation.

So the answer is not:

Run faster. Achieve more. Reach somewhere quickly.

The answer may actually be:

Walk. Stop. Enjoy. Then walk again.

You have to move through the journey, but you also have to experience it.

Enjoy the coffee you were waiting for.

Enjoy the weekend.

Enjoy reading the book.

Enjoy studying towards the degree.

Enjoy planning the holiday.

Enjoy learning.

Enjoy becoming.

Because if we spend our entire lives waiting for tomorrow, and every time tomorrow arrives we immediately start waiting for another tomorrow, then when exactly are we living?

And Now Comes a Bigger Question: What Happens in the AGI Era?

This question becomes particularly interesting when we think about the future of artificial intelligence and the possibility of increasingly capable AI or AGI.

We don’t yet know exactly how many jobs will disappear, which occupations will fundamentally change, or how quickly any of this will happen.

But suppose AI eventually performs a substantial amount of work currently performed by humans.

Then job displacement may create a problem much deeper than simply:

“How will people earn money?”

There may be another question:

What happens when people lose one of the biggest sources of anticipation in adult life?

Think about how much of an ordinary person’s life is organised around work.

Monday → work.

Friday → weekend.

End of the week → wages.

Work for months → annual leave.

Perform well → promotion.

Save money → holiday.

Build career → better position.

Work for decades → retirement.

Without ever studying psychology, millions of people have already built their lives around short-term and long-term anticipation.

Friday is coming.

My pay is coming.

My holiday is coming.

I’ll get promoted.

I’ll buy my house.

I’ll retire one day.

A job therefore provides much more than money.

For many people it provides routine, identity, social contact, competence, responsibility, achievement, status, contribution and direction.

In other words:

Work itself becomes a very big khunta.

And many smaller anticipations are tied around it.

What Happens If That Khunta Suddenly Disappears?

Imagine someone who has worked for twenty or thirty years.

Every morning there was somewhere to go.

There were people expecting them.

There were problems to solve.

There was money to earn.

There was a weekend to wait for.

There was a promotion to chase.

There was annual leave to plan.

And then suddenly:

“Your work is no longer required.”

We might call that job displacement.

But the brain may experience something much larger.

Job disappears.

Routine disappears.

Some social contact disappears.

A sense of competence may disappear.

Financial security may become uncertain.

And perhaps most importantly:

The future that person had been anticipating disappears.

Suddenly, the brain asks:

“Now where am I going?”

And this is where I believe understanding ourselves may become enormously important.

Who Am I If I Am Not My Job?

For generations, one of the first questions we ask somebody is:

“What do you do?”

And the answer is usually an occupation.

I am an accountant.

I am a nurse.

I am a driver.

I am a teacher.

I am a manager.

Notice the language.

We don’t always say:

“Accounting is something I do.”

We say:

“I am an accountant.”

Somewhere along the way, what we do can become part of who we believe we are.

There is nothing inherently wrong with that.

But imagine losing that identity after carrying it for thirty years.

A person who has never explored their own psychology may suddenly face a question they never needed to ask before:

“Who am I when I am no longer what I used to do?”

And that may be one of the less-discussed psychological challenges of an AI-driven future.

The Brain Will Still Look for a Khunta

Here is the important part.

If one anchor disappears, the brain doesn’t suddenly stop seeking reward, stimulation or direction.

It will still look for somewhere to go.

And if we don’t consciously build meaningful sources of anticipation, the easiest available ones may sometimes become the most attractive.

The next video.

The next game.

The next purchase.

The next notification.

The next episode.

The next bet.

The next drink.

The next piece of stimulating content.

Again and again.

These things are not automatically bad, nor would everyone respond to job loss in this way.

But there is an important distinction:

Immediate stimulation is not necessarily the same thing as meaningful anticipation.

You can entertain a person for ten hours.

But that does not necessarily give them something that makes them wake up tomorrow thinking:

“I am building something that matters to me.”

And that difference may become increasingly important.

Money Alone May Not Solve This Problem

Perhaps future societies will develop new ways of financially supporting people if automation significantly reduces human employment.

That is an economic and political question.

But psychologically, even if someone’s financial needs were completely covered, another question would remain:

What are they waking up for?

Money can buy food.

Money can provide shelter.

Money can create security.

But money alone cannot automatically provide:

identity, belonging, mastery, contribution, challenge, routine, relationships, purpose or anticipation.

Those things have to come from somewhere.

Psychology May Become a Life Skill

I don’t mean that everyone needs a psychology degree.

I mean something much simpler.

People may increasingly need to understand:

My brain needs structure.

My brain needs meaningful relationships.

My body needs movement.

I need something that challenges me.

I need something I’m improving at.

I need somewhere I can contribute.

I need short-term anticipation.

I need long-term anticipation.

I need periods of rest and present-moment awareness.

And perhaps most importantly:

My occupation is one source of these things — but it does not have to be the only one.

Maybe someone will grow vegetables.

Someone will study astronomy simply because they always wanted to.

Someone will care for grandchildren.

Someone will volunteer.

Someone will learn music at sixty.

Someone will build furniture.

Someone will write.

Someone will exercise towards a physical goal.

Someone will teach younger people what they learned during forty years of work.

Someone will travel.

Someone will create a community.

Someone will spend more time caring for another human being.

The activity itself doesn’t have to be economically productive to be psychologically meaningful.

Perhaps that distinction will become incredibly important.

In the AGI Era, We May Have to Choose Our Own Khunta

For generations, society has given us ready-made anchors.

School.

University.

Job.

Promotion.

Mortgage.

Retirement.

We didn’t always have to consciously create the next destination because society had already placed many of the signposts along the road.

But if advanced AI eventually changes that structure, perhaps humans will increasingly have to ask:

What matters to me when nobody is telling me what I have to do next?

That is a completely different psychological challenge.

And perhaps knowing ourselves — our curiosity, values, relationships, interests, abilities and the things that genuinely make life meaningful to us — will become more valuable than ever.

Maybe one of the biggest questions of the AGI era will not simply be:

“What will humans do if machines can do most of the work?”

Perhaps it will be:

“What will humans choose to live for when work is no longer organising so much of their lives?”

Coming Back to Anticipation

And this brings us right back to where we started.

Anticipation.

Something ahead.

Something worth waking up for.

Something worth learning.

Something worth experiencing.

Something worth contributing.

Something worth waiting for.

Something worth walking towards.

At the same time, we cannot spend our whole lives chasing the future.

So perhaps living well requires both abilities.

Know how to come back to today.

And:

Know how to create a meaningful tomorrow.

Walk towards something.

Stop occasionally.

Look around.

Enjoy where you are.

Enjoy where you are going.

And when you finally reach the destination, don’t immediately run towards another one.

Stay there for a little while.

Celebrate.

Feel it.

You waited for this.

Then, when you are ready, find another meaningful direction.

Not because life has to be an endless competition of achievements.

But because the human brain is naturally capable of learning, predicting, exploring, adapting and moving towards things that matter to us.

So perhaps the lesson isn’t simply:

“Live in the present.”

Maybe it is:

**Live in the present.

Have something meaningful to anticipate.
Enjoy the journey between the two.
And never let one job, one title or one destination become the only khunta your entire identity is tied to. 🧠❤️**

Because the world around the human brain may change enormously.

Our jobs may change.

Technology may change.

AI may change the structure of everyday life.

But the human need to have something meaningful waiting in tomorrow may remain one of the most important things we need to understand about ourselves.


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