Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Back then I was not a 'have a plan' kind of person. I generally let things happen and just sort of made things up as I went along but for the sake of peace and harmony in our house I became good at planning. And now I need a plan. I really, truly need a plan. I need to know what comes next, what are the steps we need to take to achieve a goal, I need to line up the ducks and dot and cross everything. I need to know where I am headed and how I am getting there. Some say this obsessive need makes me intense but I like to think it make me organized.
This Hyperplanactivity tends to leave me feeling anxious or annoyed when I am working without a plan. I want to Git 'er Done (to quote the great philosopher, Larry the Cable Guy)! I want to know what’s happening next, prepare for it and make sure it all goes the way I see it. Control freak much?
This past couple of weeks has been an extreme exercise in patience and trust. I have no plan, I know nothing and therefore I can make no plans. I don’t know when my surgery is, what recovery will be like and what, if any, treatment will follow. I have no control and so I have no plans. People ask me to do things, if they can help and what I’m doing next week, next month, next year and I have nothing to say. I shrug and mumble, “I dunno” like some moody teenager.
I’d like to say I’m weathering this new phase of my life like a champ, but I’m not. I’m cranky and irritated that I can’t make a plan and if I do try to make a plan I know that it really means nothing because I know nothing and I’m in charge of nothing!
Clearly, I’m losing it.
And maybe that’s part of the journey. Maybe this is one of the lessons I need to learn along the way. Maybe I need to learn how to let go. Maybe I need to find a way of being okay with allowing someone else to make the plans, take charge and take care of things. Maybe I need to learn how to trust in a different way.
The course of life is unpredictable... no one can write his autobiography in advance.
~Abraham Joshua Heschel