When a project at work is about to end, we go looking for another one. To be fair, someone else goes looking for us, and then we comply, or as it happens in most cases, we don’t. The phase when this transition occurs is one of the most itchy phases, for me, as I have come to realise. The fact that I am asked to plan the future, spell out dates when I might not be available, and draw a mental plan of where I will be in a month’s time and then, 4 months from now, makes me very uneasy. It reminds me how I have nothing planned, and I’m just waltzing away in life.
On the one hand, I want to make a chart of what the next two months will look like, and on the other I wonder if it’s too mechanical an activity to do. Who wants to live a planned life? What if I get whisked away into a real rabbit hole? Or if I win the lottery? Or if I have a Eureka moment and I turn to gardening? I’ve always loved keeping the future open like doors in a village house. I don’t know who or what is going to come in, but I’m not putting a safety net or a lock to keep anything out and regulate entrance.
However, these days I find myself reconsidering and planning how I want to see my future. Maybe it’s time to draw up a blueprint. Specially because exciting things happen to me only in my head.
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