I like to say that lost is my natural state.
As such, I am extremely comfortable having no idea where I am, and only the vaguest sense of where my destination is. This is my norm, after all. Never good at directions, it was not a shocker to get completely turned around when heading home from an atypical part of the city last night. (And for anyone who tells me that the mountains are always to the West, it was dark out. Until they light up those suckers every night and eliminate clouds… Not. Helpful. Advice.)
Like any logical, modern, independent girl would do, I did my best chicken-with-head-cut-off wandering until I remembered the amazing savior that is modern technology. I quickly (and hands-free, don’t worry) summoned up Siri on my iPhone and asked for directions to my house. Her helpful response?
“Getting directions to Plan B”
Ummmm, what? Plan B? (For the record, pretty much no part of my address utilizes ANY of those sounds or letters.) I have no idea what it is in my pronunciation, enunciation, some-unciation that makes comprehending me difficult, but this struck me as rather funny. All I wanted was to make it back to my house. Siri seemed to want to know my backup plans, when I don’t think I have a Plan A anymore in life.
I used to have those clear-cut, defined plans. Call it a 5-Year Plan, encompassing career, family, social, etc. From a fairly young age, I knew what I wanted to be and what I wanted to accomplish in all aspects of my life. I was one of the most focused and planned people I knew. And then life upended itself and threw me in another direction… a direction filled with struggles and surprises, disappointments and discoveries. Swirling in the eddies of unexpected changes also brought me unexpected happiness in unexpected ways. It suddenly seemed so futile to design some concrete Capital-P-Plan when it can all be swept away so easily. And when getting lost can be so much more rewarding than the anticipated trail.
Don’t get me wrong, dear internet. I am not some willow reed, floating aimlessly on the tides of the ether. (oh, so many mixed metaphors) I do indeed have goals. I have dreams and fantasies and enough hopes to fill up the ocean. I just don’t believe in having a plan that is set in stone. I strive to be like the proverbial shark who must keep moving or die. Maybe that isn’t quite the right phrasing though. I want to be the shark, constantly moving and adjusting to LIVE. To truly be alive. And maybe to find some tasty fish along the way.
That description just got a little weird. I am not sure I know where I am going with this post today. (haha, get it? I am even lost within the confines of my own creations) And on that pile of confusing metaphors and ramblings…
Happy Friday to all my fellow happily lost creatures.