How to plan when planning is a joke
This can only end in disaster. (Nasjonalbiblioteket)
Here we are at the end of 2020, and the Internet is flooded with people looking ahead to the brighter possibilities of 2021.
Of course, the division between the years is arbitrary. Though vaccines give us reason to be hopeful that the end of the pandemic is in sight, we are still very much in it. And we’ll still be in it when the calendar page flips to January. Some optimism is reasonable, but it’s delusional to imagine that there will be a drastic change in our circumstances from Friday forward.
All of the collective enthusiasm for 2020 at this time last year now seems quaint or even unsettling. Any plans we made for the year were likely dashed upon the rocks of the coronavirus sometime in February or March, depending on our country. So what to do now, in this phase of resolutions and looking forward? How do we balance the fact that we have no idea what’s going to happen with the desire to prevent ourselves from drifting through our days, unmoored by the absence of a plan at all?
What we’ve got to do is make our plan based on what we can control. If our circumstances change, we can adjust our plan accordingly.
The one thing I set out to do in 2020 was to keep writing five articles a week for this blog. I managed to make this happen even while my world was crumbling. I had no control over how many people read or subscribed, but I could set aside the time to write each day.
I have a few projects to work on in the months ahead. I can’t control how they will be received or how much revenue they’ll bring in or even whether they will succeed. Here’s my plan for my planning, such as it is:
Identify the actions I can take that are most likely to create my desired outcome.
Commit to a certain amount of time in which I will carry out each action.
Make a schedule for myself in which I block out the necessary time on the calendar.
Follow the schedule, day by day.
I’ll measure the success of my projects each week by how many days out of a week that I was able to follow the schedule — that is, how many days I put in the time I committed to for the actions I identified. If I get off track, I will see if I can figure out how or why it happened and make adjustments as necessary.
And that’s pretty much it. There’s no magnificent revenue goal to count on, no trip to Mykonos, no Pulitzer, no newborn baby to cradle in my arms. Even in normal circumstances, I can’t control the outcome of everything I’m hoping for. I can only take the intended action and trust that I am headed in the direction I wish to go.
This could be depressing, but it actually uplifts me to know that I have the power to achieve my goals, given that my goals are designed to be things that I have the power to achieve. The leading indicators — did I write today? Did I go for a walk? Did I reach out to a friend? — become ends in themselves, keeping me from comparing myself to others, wishing for what could have been, or worrying about the future.
And when things get really rough — when there’s bad news or tough breaks and it’s all I can do to just get through the day doing the minimum required for survival — I can acknowledge that and adapt. My plan is a humane thing, and its primary job is to prevent me from giving up on what I want most. Sometimes, it’s necessary to go back to basics: drinking a couple of extra glasses of water, running a load of laundry, and going to bed early. That’s allowed. Life may be more manageable in the morning.
Even though things went a bit sideways this year, that’s not the only lesson of 2020. There have also been good surprises and new opportunities. By paying attention to my own choices and being willing to create space for the unexpected, I’ve been able to make the most of them. There is always tomorrow, and it brings with it fresh possibilities that I can’t possibly predict. I just have to get there. By following today’s plan, I will.
