Letting Go of the Plan by Meg Gehan 

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.   -- Joseph Campbell 

We all have dreams. As children, we respond to the question of what we want to be when we grow up with a wide variety of answers- star quarterback, singer, actress, veterinarian, astronaut, firefighter. Very few of us actually reach those fantasies and we learn to put away those childish things and aim for more realistic occupations.

But what about the other dreams...the ones of getting an education, having a family, owning the perfect home, living happily ever after? The simple journey that most people take...what seems to be 'normal'. What do you do when the path you envisioned is uprooted and you're suddenly faced with a reality that is completely at odds with your imaginings?

The quote above? I've never liked it or fully grasped it. Who wants to let go of plans, of dreams? Isn't that what sustains us? Isn't hope for something different what keeps us going in times of darkness?

It has only been recently that I've understood. That it's okay to have a plan, but I've had to realize that MY plan might not be THE plan.

A few months ago, as I was rejoicing the onset of a new school year, planning all the ways I'd use my new free time to build my business and reach my goals, my son developed an overwhelming anxiety that prevented him from going to school. Suddenly I was dealing with a petrified child, meeting with guidance counselors, therapists and psychiatrists. Instead of focusing on the new features of Facebook to explain to my clients, I received a crash course in 504 special education plans, anxiety medication and new Singapore math (so not how I learned long division). I became teacher, principal, truancy officer and therapist to my son...when all I want to be is his mother.

Not the plan I had imagined.

And I confess I struggled with this new 'plan'. I tried to fix it, harboring an anger and frustration that resulted in a 48-hour period of nonstop crying. I scared myself, and everyone around me, because that reaction is not me. I tend to fall apart and pick myself up quickly, but this time, I couldn't. I just cried and cried...mourning what wasn't. Unwilling to let go of what 'should' be, resisting this new life I found myself in, not wanting to be the mother whose kid won't go to school.

What came out of that mourning was a realization that life rarely ends up the way we think it will. There are too many variables, things that can interfere with the potential outcome, so we need to give up control in order to live our life. We need to let go of the 'this is how it should be' or 'I've always wanted...' to see what is. Whether it's a marriage ending in divorce, birth of a beautiful child with developmental needs or an inability to have children...we need to mourn and long for what should be... but then move on to see the possibilities for what IS.

I have no idea what will happen for my son...if he'll ever return to his elementary school or if he will be homeschooled or enrolled in a different setting. Sometimes the unknown scares the hell out of me...because the deviations could lead us anywhere, and I confess I felt safe in the 'normal' course of childhood. But I have to adjust to his new normal, and see what follows. And have faith that it just might be so much better than I ever planned.