Planning Problems
A close friend and I joked for years that "you've got to have a plan." We agreed that life always seemed easier, ran more smoothly, and felt more predictable with a plan in place. Well, except for when the plan didn't go as intended - that caused frustration.
I lived this rule of thumb for many years. More recently, I began embracing the notion of having an intention rather than a strict plan. This gave me a little more space to envision a possibility of what I might like, without a step by step process to get there and more importantly without an agenda. It's the agenda that I think most complicates things.
When we have a plan, it's rarely without an agenda. For my purposes, I'm going to explain agenda as the story or meaning attached to an outcome. If I have plans to run a workshop and it doesn't come to fruition, I could decide that it means something about my ability, the program being offered, the financial state of the world or on the other side that there must be something else intended for me during this time. It's all a story that I create to give meaning to what's happening.
I find that most of us do this in one form or another. Having a story makes us feel safer (even if it makes us feel badly about ourselves). A story or agenda is simply an attempt to control our realm, but what if the only control we have is how we be with whatever may happen?
As my personal beliefs and experiences evolve, this seems to be the key ingredient. It is only my willingness to surrender to whatever is happening, and giving myself the space to know that who I am at my essence is a spark of something much greater. In turn, my feelings are okay. My being is okay. The only problem is the story I attach to, the control I seek, and the plan I believe is necessary to keep things orderly. Who ever said things were supposed to be orderly?
In this vein, I've been working with an image. Several years ago, I described an experience that had me feeling I was out on a boat, by myself in the middle of the rough ocean seas with no compass. I felt frightened and miserable and unsure of my place in the universe.
Since Autumn, I've intentionally visualized myself back in the boat, but now I'm on a large, calm body of water. There is movement - the boat is moving - I have no oars to guide the direction, I am simply in the boat. I'll admit I'm hoping there are no waterfalls in my path, and still, I find myself relaxing in the boat. Sometimes I lie down and feel the rhythm of the movement, sky-gazing or eyes closed, simply knowing I am okay in my boat, even though I don't know where I'm headed. Other times, I sit up to see the beautiful trees I'm passing, well, they were nice to look at while they were changing color...I may need to move my boat to warmer climes for the remainder of the winter...but I simply take it in, and feel peaceful.
My coach recently told me a story about a time in her life when she went from having a plan for everything to a universal sense of being told "You are now on a need-to-know program." That's what it feels like for me. I'm shifting from needing to see the next ten steps ahead, to being with whatever comes, as it comes. I find it to be a remarkable shift with a lot more personal space than I have ever experienced before.
And so I offer you this challenge, don't make a plan this month. Yes, I know, spring is coming and there's much to do, so you may consider this a crash course. The idea, though, is to meet whatever comes, as it comes without the story, without the plan, without it having to make sense, and perhaps you, too will find what English novelist E.M. Forester says to be true: "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." (Thanks for the quote, Jamie!)
With love from the boat,
Joanne Lutz