"Man plans, and God laughs."
---Yiddish Proverb
"Make time for planning. Wars are won in the General's
tent."
---Steven Covey
AUTHOR NOTE: This column was supposed to published last
week. Except I forgot to actually submit it to Chris and Mary, your fearless
editors. That is what we call "Irony" in the English major world.
Everyone else just calls it stupidity. See updates in parenthesis Enjoy.
I am confident that I
don't have multiple personalities (there was a Facebook quiz, I aced it) but
regarding the organization, planning, and staying on task I do bounce between
the two extremes. It's healthy to realize that not every plan you make is going
to work out, but you can't just stumble through life with no direction, no road
map of where you want to go and what you want to do. At least that's what
people tell me.
Lists tend to work for me, neatly written on a calendar (not
always, clearly.) Each day has a few items on it and in a perfect world, the
end of the day comes, and everything is checked off. That literally has never
happened, but hope springs eternal. Some of it might have more to do with the
items on the list than my poor planning skills. It's good to set the bar high,
but seriously at times, the list looks about as realistic as a fantasy baseball
roster. Last week one of the tasks was "Clean the basement." The
basement has never been cleaned; by me or anyone else. Now and then I go down
there, make sure no woodland creatures are living under the laundry hamper,
grab the toilet paper to stock the hall closet and come back upstairs. Sure,
the TP would be a lot easier to access if there weren't twelve boxes of
macaroni and cheese and a bag of "giveaway clothes" in the way, but
no one who knows me thinks that will ever change.
So, whatever, it's the basement, it's not like the Queen is
coming for tea and will want to see it, so not getting it done doesn't bother
me. The daily lists are mostly suggestions for me. The science articles have to
get done, and always do because being employed is a necessity, but after that,
it's a crapshoot (or an epic fail, either way.) One of my favorite movies is
"Gone With the Wind" because Katy Scarlett O'Hara is one
sharp-tongued Irish girl. She said, "After all, tomorrow is another
day." In my house, it means there's another list, but that's how it goes.
Once the daily stuff is out the way, what about long range
plans? Careers, finances, and all the rest are much bigger issues than chores
(Is USA Today hiring was one issue I considered last week.) Should I have a
20-year plan? What about a ten-year plan? In twenty years I will be in my 70s,
and while I plan to stay healthy and active, it's a safe bet that my 70s won't
be nearly as much fun as the 1970s were. In those days gone by, my to-do list
didn't exist. The goals were to ride my bike to the store and spend as much
time as possible on the beach with my friends. Looking two decades down the
road means strategizing about mutual funds and long-term care insurance.
Honestly, I think I'd rather clean the basement.
Plan or don't, that's the question (Pro tip: Plan, trust me
on this.) Perhaps a middle ground needs to be found, where sometimes you let
go, and sometimes you stick to the list? There was one time in my life that
involved almost no plans and worked out perfectly. I wanted to take my oldest
to Ireland; it was something that was important to me, to show him part of his
heritage. We got plane tickets, reserved a rental car and booked the first
night's lodging. I didn't do another thing except for ordering the Tourist
Board's book of B&Bs.
It was three solid weeks of getting in the car (on the wrong
side) and driving around to wherever looked good on the map. Once we stayed in
a town for two days because a local pub had the most delicious Shepard's Pie
ever. We wandered aimlessly and got lost more times than I can count. At one
point we were driving down a country road and had to stop because a mule
wouldn't get out of the way. Another time a group of boys ran up to the car
asking, "Stop! Oi! Are you lost then?" I smiled and said, "No,
this is the way I want to go, thanks!"
I'm not one to be shouted at by hooligans.
500 yards down the road the
ocean appeared, almost out of thin air. In Ireland, they farm right up to the
water's edge. Reversing a car that's built backward, up a boggy unpaved road is
quite the experience. The boys were still there, chuckling, and I said,
"Well, that was grand then, wasn't it?" I think another trip is in
order because lately, I've come to believe that plans are overrated. Ireland
Escape 2018? Sure, it'll be brilliant (if I don't forget to buy tickets.)
