I've Got Other Plans

There is something about flowers on a bedside table that makes my heart smile. These peonies came from Whole Foods and were amazing until they took their last breath.

Lately I have been having the most fun with just me and my imagination. It has me pretty excited about something I’m working on and trying to express.

As many of you know, if you stop by and read what I write, my writing is mostly for me. It helps me stop, take a step back, and reflect.

Lately a few words have been rolling around in my heart.

Calming words.

Words that interrupt the endless self-talk that, if we're honest, we all have.

I struggle with that voice during times of change. It can get mean real fast. And I’m not a fan of beating myself up, so it always startles me when I catch myself talking harshly to ME, for crying out loud.

Before a meeting this morning, I decided to take a few moments and try to give meaning to these newish words that keep showing up to guide me.

Sacred Pause.

I use these two words in a couple of ways.

I move fast when I see a problem. Sometimes I take action so quickly it makes my own head spin. Which, as it turns out, is not always a good thing.

" Sacred Pause " reminds me how powerful—how almost sacred—a pause can be before reacting.

I know people who do this so beautifully. They seem to quietly pause before responding to almost everything life tosses at them. I love being around these people.

It feels almost spiritual to be with calm, self-regulated humans, doesn't it?

These simple words remind me who I want to be, how I want to show up in the world, and who I want to spend time with.

But there is another meaning too.

Life after 65 feels a bit like a sacred pause almost every day. This time in life is when change often arrives uninvited. Loss. Heartbreak. Health scares. Children who suddenly don't need us the way they once did.

Trust me. Change happens fast after 65.

A sacred pause reminds me that I don't have to rush through those moments. I can sit with them. Grieve a wee bit. Grow a lot.

And growth, if you let it sit beside grief long enough, has a funny way of taking over.

Like a wild weed pushing through a crack in the sidewalk, it creates new possibilities where none seemed to exist.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the idea of a sacred pause.

I’m turning down the noise. Listening to God, the universe, and all the mystery that surrounds us.

Really listening.

And resting in the guidance.

Oddly, this rest I have given myself permission to take, this pause, has led me to a place of TRUST.

Because when you decide to take a sacred pause, something unexpected happens. You begin to believe something so powerful.

Life can be trusted.

Hard to explain. But I find it incredibly useful these days.

The other set of words I love are even simpler:

I've Got Other Plans.

When life feels like a lot—and goodness knows it sometimes does—I refuse to let my imagination create stories that haven't happened.

So I say this phrase.

Sometimes quietly. Sometimes out loud.

No thanks. I've got other plans.

It's a reminder that I am still in charge of a lot of what happens next. I’m certainly in charge of my reactions.

Try it sometime when life feels like something that is happening to you instead of something you are helping create.

Find a quiet place.

Take a deep breath.

Then simply say:

"No thanks. I've got other plans."

Maybe it is a form of manifestation.

Maybe it is faith. Maybe it is both.

Either way, I love it.

One last example.

I have a new friend who has completely changed my view of what we really need in this world.

He isn't someone I would normally have struck up a conversation with, but his presence in my life has been remarkable.

He has nine children. Nine. He is recently divorced (not his choosing) and a wee bit sad about it. He lives in a simple home with very limited resources.

Yet none of those things define him.

He just keeps putting one foot in front of the other and creating a rhythm to his life that I find deeply inspiring.

I worry about him sometimes.

What happens if his car breaks down?

What if he gets sick?

What if life throws him another curveball?

Strangely, he doesn't seem all that concerned.

He doesn't spend much time worrying about what might happen.

He spends his energy living the life he has.

Maybe that's what "I've Got Other Plans" really means.

Not pretending life won't be hard.

Just refusing to let fear write the story.

So there you have it. A few thoughts on the words rolling around in my heart lately.

And yes, I do have other plans.

OX,

Robbin