I’ve just figured out what the universe is trying to teach me.
I often say that all planning is science fiction. At work, I’m writing a business case for a new project, and it has a beautiful matrix of risks and strategies to mitigate them. But no matter how creative I am, I know I’ll never imagine all the possible risks that could befall my project. I can only plan around the risks I can conceive. I wish managers wouldn’t pretend this wasn’t the case.
But I didn’t want to write about work, I wanted to write about the rest of my life, the part outside of business hours. It seems that everytime I dream up a new plan, the universe looks at me and laughs. We planned to stay in Canberra for Christmas, but ended up going back to Perth (which was wonderful). We were going to move into our new house but fate intervened, making such a move completely inadvisable. So we are still in our cosy garden flat. I keep trying to organise dreamboarding sessions, but the universe won’t let my buddies and I schedule it. I dropped down to four days a week to study and write, and now it seems the universe wants me to go into management instead. My boss is retiring and I am being strongly encouraged to apply for his job. None of these things are bad at all. It’s just that every plan I had for this year got shredded. Except one.
Yesterday I got some big news. Not unwelcome. Not devastating. Maybe even wonderful. But the last piece of my planned 2009 has just been scrubbed out.
I can hear the universe giggling.
I want to retaliate. I want to build a grand, shiny new plan to fit this new landscape. But I think the universe is telling me I’m too attached to plans. I want goals, and steps and things to plan and save and look forward to. But honestly, I don’t have the imagination. I can’t even begin to speculate what this future might look like.
I need a first step. Jamie’s wish prompt is just the right one. As I look over the wreckage of my plan, I’m picturing it as ripped up paper, charred and scrunched. There’s only one part I’d like to hold onto tightly, one piece to be picked up, flattend out and dusted off. I do not want my writing course to go to waste. In it, there is a piece of my heart’s calling. I want to get something published – just an article in a magazine, I don’t care who reads it. But I want someone to pay me for something I write.
That is too big for a first step.
I think I am wishing to form an accountability group. A group I can sit and drink tea with, while we discus our projects and our progress. A gentle group, who won’t mind as the universe re-writes my plans.
What step are you wishing to take?