Updated: Oct 29, 2022
In the first few minutes of being awake, do you sense what kind of day it will be? Do you think about what you’ll wear or what you’ll have for lunch? Or wake up reviewing from the day before? Do you think about the last emotion you felt?
I do these things. I don’t know how I got into this habit. Is it needing to know I can control what little I control? I won’t plan anything else for the rest of the day. Oh, I have my strict obligations like everyone else, but they’re managed at my discretion. What we set in stone doesn’t need mentioning, but how and when I check them off the list isn’t set in anything. That’s my point. Who says I can’t work twenty-four hours a day, only stopping for an occasional nap? That’s how cats do it. Pinned note: Would my years become cat years?
An unplanned day is like a theater performance you have no playbill for. You go in without expectations, come out cheering or grumbling, but how many times have you ended a day thinking, ‘That was unexpectedly great.’ These days are minor works of art.
And that is the juicy and invigorating unplanned day, month, year, life.
What about goals, you ask? Oh yes, yes.They’re there, the goals. Those are what keep the whole thing from collapsing into a pile of slushy dreams. You can have goals fueled by your starry wishes up there in the firmament and still walk the path of the unplanned. The stars are everything.
This morning I woke up at 6 a.m. to pee, and while washing my hands, I looked in the mirror and thought, ‘Hmm’, not quite right. Ten minutes later, I had a new haircut.
I went back to sleep, and when I woke up again, I had a huge fight with my so-called best friend. Our Instagram chat started with innocuous good mornings and ended with my account being blocked.
Determined not to let this kill my vibe, I started a Twitter account. By the end of the day, I had more people to talk to than I knew what to do with. That same day, someone in the real world invited me to a beach house party. See? All unplanned. Strange, too–as if breaking with that one individual unlocked some alternate reality just waiting to be born. I heart irony.
Then sometimes things go awry. The other specimens of unplanned events are always looking for their chance to manifest. Floating in the ether is not fun. Neither is getting locked out of your house–ouch.The rejections, the mistakes, the illnesses and all the other unforeseen calamities all come with the package. Some will say they were born unlucky.
And people don’t take these things lying down. In march the planners, plotters, insurance men and bookies. All reacting to the same thing. Every time we mess up; every time we fall short. We insist that life be neat and square when it’s anything but. We scream, “It's not fair.” But no one is listening.
I will continue to play it by ear.
