Julie FordOften I get a plan together and even when it has multiple contingencies, I’m back to the drawing board. I’ve learned, over time, to make certain plans extremely flexible- sometimes to the point of simplistic and vague.
This is outside of my comfort zone. I’m a planner. It’s taken a lot of time for me to be okay with “I have no idea what’s next” situations. Currently, I’m on the cusp of embracing this wild, wonderful sea of choice rather than looking at it as a major abyss of aimless unknown, but I still have moments of major angst about plans going awry.
It’s helped me to look back at unplanned successes. I never aspired to be a divorcee, but without going through that ordeal, I wouldn’t have the marriage and family with which I’m currently blessed. I also gained tremendous empathy for others having weathered that storm.
I never hoped to be laid off from a great job while I was 9 mos pregnant, but being forced into taking a leap and starting my own business years ago was a tremendously unexpected positive consequence. It forced me to really examine what type of work-life I prefer during motherhood.
Recently, my plan to get back to my graduate work was underway. I slogged through the red tape and was in final stages of “good to go.” I’ve had a few wrenches thrown at my plan to fund the endeavor. There’s one more contingency left before “Plan F,” (“back to the flippin’ drawing board”) goes into effect. I’m not overjoyed. I’ve had my angst moment about it. And fortunately, new and different opportunities are coming to light… so, if need be, it’s back to making new choices.
This weekend I experienced a cool tool. The balance board. Mine is a tapestry-covered board with two half-moon rockers on the bottom. I can stand on it, sit on it, do crunches or even hand stands on it if I felt like a fun ER trip. The key is to balance your weight through continuous adjustment.
I’ve often taught this in workshops, but something about this board gives me permission to do this goofy-feeling exercise daily. We need movement. We desire centering and knowing that we each have the power and skill to balance given just a moment to focus.
It’s time to be creative and flexible.
Being the analogy queen, I’ll transfer this refreshed learning to my current (and I’m sure future) set of contingencies. Time to take off my socks, dig my toes into the tapestry and find center again.
Who knows, by summer perhaps I’ll have mastered the handstand without a cast.
