Have you ever felt that sharp sting when reality doesn’t match what you hoped for?

When the job, the grade, or even a conversation turns out differently than you imagined?

Turns out both Buddhism and modern neuroscience, though separated by centuries and cultures, converge on this truth about this mismatch:

Much of human life unfolds in the tension between expectation and reality, also called, “suffering”.

“I want things to meet my expectations”

Suffering comes from this thought.

In the Buddhist sense this is called attachment (or clinging). It is a fundamental cause of suffering. In the Second Noble Truth, the Buddha taught that suffering (duḥkha) is “due to attachment”, where attachment translates the Sanskrit/Pāli term tṛṣṇā/taṇhā, meaning thirst, craving, or clinging (Tapas Kumar Aich, Buddha Philosophy and Western Psychology) .

In simple terms,

we suffer because we desperately want reality to align with our internal ideals of how things should be.

This rigid desire for a perfect alignment between our expectations and reality inevitably leads to disappointment and distress when the world doesn’t comply. As one modern summary of Buddhist psychology puts it: “suffering arises from ‘attachments’ or rigid clinging to ideas that fail to match reality” (Tapas Kumar Aich).

In other words, when we cling to expectations that life or people must be a certain way, we create a gap between what is and what we want, and that gap is where suffering emerges as frustration, dissatisfaction, or grief.

Your Brain is a Prediction Model

Modern neuroscience provides a strikingly parallel explanation for why mismatched expectations cause distress.

According to the predictive coding theory, the brain is not a passive recorder of reality but an active prediction engine.

Our brains are constantly trying to predict what will happen next by using internal models built from past experience (Brown & Brune, The role of prediction in social neuroscience ) . We carry an unconscious mental expectation for almost everything, from what we’ll see or hear in the next moment to how others will behave or how events should unfold.

This is to say, the core function of the brain is building a prediction model of the world’s causal order based on past experiences. It iterates and makes real-time predictions, and modifies the model based on the differences between prediction and experience.

This framework, known as the Bayesian brain theory, suggests that perception, decision-making, and even action are driven by probabilistic inference:

The brain combines 1. prior beliefs with 2. incoming sensory evidence to form the most likely explanation of the world.

In other words,

we don’t passively receive reality, we actively construct it through a cycle of prediction and error correction.

Specifically, the brain continuously compares its predictions to the actual sensory input from the world. When reality matches our internal model, things feel “right” and we proceed smoothly. But when reality violates our expectations, the brain generates a prediction error, basicallyan internal signal that something unexpected or “off” has occurred.

Neuroscientists use this term “prediction error” to describe the difference between what we expected and what actually happened. This error signal forces the brain to update its model of the world. If the mismatch is small, the brain may ignore it or chalk it up to noise. However, if the mismatch is large or important, higher-level brain regions are alerted that the model was wrong, and we immediately notice the discrepancy.

In psychological terms, an unmet expectation creates cognitive dissonance, “the uncomfortable gap between what we expected and what actually occurred”

In those moments, we viscerally feel that

Something is not right.

For example, when you anticipate a step that isn’t there and your foot hits flat ground, or when a trusted friend behaves out of character, that jarring feeling of surprise or discomfort is your brain’s prediction error signal flashing “Reality isn’t matching up!!”

Active Inference vs. Percetual Inference

Within the framework of the predictive brain, two complementary strategies emerge for dealing with mismatches between our expectations and reality: perceptual inference and active inference.

Perceptual inference is about updating our beliefs when the world surprises us. For example, if you expect silence but hear a bird chirp, your brain revises its internal model: there’s a bird nearby.

Active inference is about acting to reduce prediction error. If you expect warmth but feel cold, you might put on a sweater. Instead of changing your model of reality, you change reality itself to better match your prediction.

These two modes, updating the mind to fit the world, or changing the world to fit the mindm mirror the Buddhist practice of observing thoughts (acceptance) versus taking action (skillful means).

This distinction between active inference and percetual inference, to me, resonate with Buddhist practice.

Perceptual inference aligns with mindfulness, which is the deliberate observation and acceptance of reality “as it is,” even when it contradicts our mental models. Meditation trains practitioners to notice sensations, thoughts, and feelings without immediately trying to change them, which in predictive modeling can be compared to, loosening the grip of priors and allowing direct experience.

Active inference, on the other hand, is similar to the Buddhist principle of skillful action (upāya).

Upāya is the action of taking compassionate steps to alleviate suffering, whether through ethical conduct, generosity, or care for the body. In Buddhist psychology, wisdom arises from knowing when to accept and when to act, a balance the brain itself constantly negotiates through its predictive machinery.

The Meaning of Life

From the perspective of both Buddhist teachings, and their links to neurosicence theories, I’ve come to the argument that the meaning of life is not found in eliminating prediction errors or forcing the world to bend to our expectations.

Such control is impossible, and the pursuit of it only deepens our frustration.

The older I am, the more I find meaning emerging in how we respond, in learning to move gracefully through surprises, uncertainty, and sometimes betrayal and disappointments. All of these are a part of life.

Buddhism teaches that freedom arises when we loosen our attachment.

Neuroscience provides the mechanism on the how and why: how the brain constructs and revises its models of reality and why we should give mindfulness a try; while Buddhism offers the daily practice through meditation and yoga, these are exercises that help you cultivate awareness, compassion, and acceptance in the midst of flux.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for joining me on this journey. I hope you’ve taken something away from it.

I know I certainly have. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve found myself asking big questions about the meaning of life. Over time, exploring both religion and science has taught me that life’s meaning is not about absolute control or escaping suffering, despite how often we’re taught to chase achievement or avoid discomfort.

Goals can inspire us, but becoming obsessed with what we haven’t yet achieved can turn toxic.

Instead, meaning lies in understanding the patterns of the mind, embracing the inevitability of change, and finding peace in that fragile space between expectation and reality.

Nicole Hao, New York, 2025