A Case Against What Comes Next
resisting the economy of constant change
I was that kid.
Every August as the back-to-school aisles got stocked with supplies, I was there and ready to prepare for the school year. After shopping for everything on the list, I’d go home and lay out all the folders, binders, notebooks, pencils, pens and other supplies on my bedroom floor. I put the papers where they needed to go, set up my pencil pouches, and then decorated my folders and notebooks with pictures and words that inspired me.
I’ve always loved planning ahead. I was also that kid who went to sleep best with something in my mind to look forward to, something that fought against the anxiety that often flooded my thoughts and dreams.
And still, as an adult I am loyal to my yearly paper planners, filling in the pages with to-do lists and dreams, scheduling life in a way that feels busy enough to be exciting, and trying to take a breath when I realize I’ve over-committed (again). But today, I want to talk to you about the possibility of not imagining what comes next.
You know me—I will always tell you to risk dreaming, imagining what comes next. But what I noticed this morning on the Target app was an ad reminding us to get ready for Spring—SPRING! I’ve barely gotten my feet planted in this Philadelphia winter weather, and already we are encouraged to look ahead to the next season in anticipation.
But I can’t. Not right now.
Instead, we hold the reality of be here now, because that’s all we’ve got. Over the holidays, plans were cancelled, dreams crushed. People got COVID and are still getting it, our kids are back to virtual school for the time being, and things are just sort of stagnant.
So, I’m leaning into whatever that stagnation is and asking what can be learned there. What can be learned while we are still inside, still distancing, still working from home, still scared of the world outside the front door?
What can we learn in this winter time, the time of drawing in, of telling the old stories and perhaps writing new ones?
What can we learn in this gray space of not knowing what’s next? Is it okay to not know?
The holiday decorations are down, and in their place are little bottle brush trees and dried greenery, dehydrated oranges and winter candles.
As much as we want to know what comes next, we can’t know.
As much as we want to fill our days with the routine we need, we can’t.
As much as we want to lay out the school supplies and plan for everything that comes next, it’s not happening in the way we’d imagined.
So, here we are.
Let’s practice a new mantra together, in this season we share:
In this unknowing,
we breathe deep
and take in the reality
that it is okay
to simply be
with the stories
and experiences of winter,
our sacred hiding
and listening
and learning
as the holy work we hold.
