It’s OK When Your Life Doesn’t Go as Planned
The photo’s caption resonates with me because the last six weeks have not gone as I planned and that’s okay.
The best-laid plans
The line from the Scottish poem by Robert Burns, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry,” is so true, isn’t it?
There’s also a ditty from recovery rooms that goes like this, “I plan and God laughs.” Lest you think I’m over-reacting or even being silly, try making a decision on June 1 to move from one house and then taking up residence in another house six weeks later which was three days ago.
Oh, and for three weeks in the middle, my sweetie and I house- and dog-sat at our home away from home. If you picture a triangle, place each house at the three points–each one about 25 miles from the other.
Looking at houses, buying furniture, selling furniture, packing, AND one vehicle (mine) going on the fritz. Oh, and working too, when we weren’t dozing in the pool (hey, this is a full disclosure post).
There were few days in the past six weeks that went according to MY plan. I’ll let you in on a secret, though. The days that were good days were the ones when I said first-thing, “Okay GUS (God-Universe-Spirit), I’m pretty sure I’m gonna mess things up today so I need you to lead me where you need me.”
3 things we did right
Moving when you’re part of a couple is a tricky thing. I won’t tell you the entire time was without sharp words and a few tears shed, but we came through not only intact, but pretty damn good, thank you very much. We did three things right.
1. We respected our individual packing and unpacking processes. One of us is methodical and completes a small area (or box, in this case) while the other is more, shall we say, “creative.” One of us has more pronounced control issues–yes, it’s me!
2. We took care of our bodies. Let’s face it, moving is much easier for a 30-year-old body than for a 50+ body. As little as a few years ago I might have muscled my way through by carrying too-heavy boxes. This time, I gave myself grace and let my rational self remind me that I have degenerative disc disease and that I’m under ongoing chiropractic care. I heeded my limits and paid others to do the work for me.
3. We knew when to say when we needed to stop. As I’ve aged, both in recovery and in biology, I’ve learned to give myself grace around letting myself stop. Take a break, take a nap (usually on a heating pad) or plop in front of the television for a mindless hour or so.
There’s a fourth thing that’s been on my mind throughout the last six weeks. It’s grace; giving ourselves permission to be good to ourselves.
Why in the world would there be any other way?
Photo courtesy of www.snoopy.com