Often I like to start my day by lying in bed (for as long as possible) planning out my day.
I’ll think about what I will do first, next, and after that. I’ll think about what the pets need and what I need to do for work and then I’ll make a resolution to achieve each of those priorities.
Then I get up.
It is usually around this time when I learn, once again, that my day has already made other plans without me.
Every so often, things will go the way I have decided they should go, with the hours following along dutifully behind me like a particularly well-trained puppy.
But mostly I have found that attempting to enforce “my way” is about as futile as trying to convince my waffle-loving parrot, Pearl, that he doesn’t really want a waffle after all.
Pearl always wants a waffle. Always.
When I struggle against how a day is unfolding, I usually arrive at its end battered and bruised on the inside.
Sometimes I feel like a loser. Sometimes I feel like a thundercloud poised to unleash on any unfortunate being who passes by. Sometimes I get depressed, wondering if this is really all that life has to offer. Sometimes I just get out the wine opener and a glass and call it a day.
But if, in the midst of all the irritation and frustration I am feeling, I can remember to stop for a moment and take a look at the day’s actual events, I often discover that it has been mentoring me all along.
I will often discover that the plans it made for me were good – different from mine perhaps – but in a way better, because the plans I had made for myself focused on what I already know how to do, what I already know needs doing and what my fears or concerns indicate should be done first.
My day, on the other hand, had made its plans for me focused on what I don’t yet know how to do, what I haven’t yet learned and what my heart and spirit say matters most in life (as opposed to what my conscious mind and bank balance say matters most).
On these days – the days that my plans don’t work out – I often learn lessons about love, about being there for others, about how sufficiency can arrive in the most surprising ways, and about what I really crave out of life and where it can be found.
In other words, I learn the kind of profound lessons that make life truly feel like living – regardless of who is making our daily plans.
Today’s Takeaway: Do you ever feel like your day has gotten up long before you and has already mapped out your whole day without asking for your input? What is it like to go through a day when everything goes differently than you had planned? How do you feel at the end of it?