Plans as an act of deep care

A map (of Iceland) spread over the dashboard of a car, with a road ahead disappearing into the horizon.

Hello Traveler.

I’ve been thinking about the word “plan.”

It comes from the old French word plain, meaning “a flat and even surface.” A plain was the thing you made a plan on, a sketch, a map, a guess, a place to dream.

It’s easy to get down on plans. There’s a Yiddish proverb “Man Plans, God Laughs,” which is of course true, depending on your conception of God. I planned to run more retreats than ever in 2020. Coach Britt had started three workshops last year before her cancer diagnosis. Dismantling plans can be hard and heavy work.

But there’s also something profoundly loving about plan-making.

I remember my bedroom in high school, the landline cupped in both hands, registering for university classes. Each one had a massive numeric code, which I’d push into the rounded plastic handset one digit at a time, heart beating fast, the great plains of the future, my twenties, close up and incomprehensible.

These days, plans feel to me like an act of deep care, a love note to my later self to say “I’m on my way. I want you to have sweetness.”

We don’t know what the autumn will bring. We don’t know what the sky will look like, what will be popular on Netflix, and mostly, what this virus will keep asking of us, and how our bodies and the people we love most will respond. But we can still make plans.

We can smooth out the map.
We can ask ourselves where we want to go.
We can send a paper airplane to our future selves to unfold.

If writing is something you want in the coming season — along with support, gentle witnessing, authenticity, all the things we love — we might have a workshop you’ll like.

I know that plans can feel complicated.
But I still believe in them.
And we would love to meet you there.

I’m glad you’re here.

Let’s love up our autumnal selves with all the things we know we’ll need. We’re here to make some magic with you.

In it with you,

P.S. That beautiful photo at the top is care of Tabea Schimpf, shared on Unsplash.