Well, there WAS a plan.
The plan was to shut down this space. To clear everything out and write one final goodbye. To eventually start again, most likely in private, writing for myself like I used to. It was a good plan. It came from a desire to be truly open and honest in my words…in my space.
I am still here. Trying to make sense of the chaos of life. Stealing moments from my kids in order to put down my thoughts. Reheating this morning’s first cup of coffee for what seems like the fifteenth time. Replaying again, in my mind, other plans that I’d had.
I am finally able to admit, as much as I’d like to plan everything, as much as I want my life to progress in a orderly and organized direction, I can’t. I am not capable of planning for everything. It’s frustrating, and often a little heartbreaking that even after all these years, I still get caught off guard.
Some things are unexpected.
Accidents. Moments. Choices. Requests.
Lately, I’ve been struggling with what to do with the unexpected. How to proceed from there. And I’m frustrated. Upset. Scared. Confused. I want to throw away my plan and not bother with the waste of time making a new one would be.
I don’t want to plan anymore.
I want to live.