Learning to Float
I derive pleasure out of having a plan. Sit me down at a game of Risk and though I may not win, I will most certainly have been a formidable enemy with a strong strategy. There is something luxurious about checking things off a list, ticking itemized tasks off a personal memo, and coming one step closer to the final goal(s). I'm getting excited just thinking about it. Ambition, early mornings, cool air, warm coffee; it all flows into the same satisfactory feeling. A 10am break after several hours of hard work is a perverse pleasure.
But sometimes there is no plan. Or sometimes there is no option to plan. And that pleasure is taken away from me.
Perfectly type A, I know. But that is the whole concept of fate, isn't it? To be afloat on a river, and in control of the raft but not of the stream. That sort of thinking used to drive me crazy. But here I am, making plans, all of which need to be rearranged or canceled so drastically that I can only point my busy hands at one of the moirai; at the river's hidden rapids. I'm not in control here. I had to take a step back.
And when I did, a whole bunch of interesting things happened. Not all good, but interesting. I'm still left worried about the future, but I'm not planning for it anymore this week.