I was recently going through a box of old trinkets when I stumbled upon a book I had created in elementary school. As I flipped through the pages, ready to toss the book away, a page labeled “Future” caught my eye. There, scribbled out in my diligent but less than perfect fourth grade handwriting, were goals that I wanted to reach in five, 11, and 50 years. As I skimmed through the goals, my eyes landed hard on the ones I had set for 11 years in the future (when I would be 21 years old). They read the following:
Get married and have my own house.
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Get my own dalmatian puppy and have 2 kids.
Although I can chalk most of the absurdity of this list up to my very poor judgement of time at age 10, it still cracked me up (but at least I listed the puppy before the kids, which proves I had my priorities straight even then). Here I am, having just turned 22, and I have not achieved any of these “goals.” And I think that is perfectly awesome.
I am all for certain types of planning. I have a color coordinated planner that I use for assignments and a calendar that I keep track of work and social events on. That kind of organization is necessary for my sanity. But I have found that nothing in life is ever what you imagine – or at the time, may want – it to be. You cannot possibly predict your future. There are far too many variables in your life for you to know exactly where you’ll end up years from now.
And I know that you think the older you get, the better you’ll be able to plan out your future. I disagree. I may have been way off in my plans for 21 at age 10, but even at age 17 my plan didn’t pan out. As a senior in high school I thought I knew what my college experience would look like and what it would inevitably lead to. I wanted to major in theatre and stay close to home. I didn’t think I would have time for any extracurricular activities because I would spend any extra time looking for acting jobs. Well, I graduated four months ago. My plan didn’t include majoring in Animal Science with a Pre-Vet emphasis. I never thought my best college memories would come from late nights in a cramped rehearsal room with the a cappella group I joined as soon as I got to campus. Even if you had chatted with me a few months ago I would have told you there was no way I would be getting on a plane and heading to the island of St. Kitts to start veterinary school in January. Whoops.
That’s why I think the best plan in some cases is no plan. Why stress yourself out trying to plan your future to a T? I want you to have dreams and aspirations. I want you to be excited for your future and have goals you someday want to fulfill. But life happens. Things don’t work out and plans fall through. The good news is that the most exciting parts of life aren’t planned. The most cherished moments are the ones that happen when you’re too busy living life to plan them.
For those of you reading who are worried about your future: don't be. As long as you're putting in the effort and being the best you that you can be, don't worry about not knowing exactly what you want to do and where you want to do it. For the readers who insist on mapping out the exact details of the next 10 years of their lives: stop. Try to be a little more flexible and a little less attached to your plan. Because when life happens (as it inevitably will) you'll find yourself pretty distressed unless you are willing to loosen your grip on those plans of yours. This is coming from a girl who was supposed to have two kids and a house by now but is instead flying across the country to head to school for three more years. So be flexible, widen your horizons, and lower your expectations for your “perfect” life. Although the path may look different than you had imagined, you will end up exactly where you are meant to.
