Like so many coming out of post-secondary education, I remember feeling the pressure to justify the time and money spent after I graduated; if I didn't have any plans, what did I spend all that money on? A lack of plans makes you a bum, a freeloader, and a laze-about. Our society has cemented forward thinking under the euphemism of “future plans”—the typical five- and 10-year varieties—into its cultural expectations, and they are, unfortunately, necessary if you want people to take you seriously. If you don’t want people to think you’re useless, then you better pen that fucking plan. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” Blergh.
I despise the concept. Plans are like a carrot on a stick, dangling in front of you in the cliche way, in a feeble chase towards the determined goal. But there's a sneaky aspect to the carrot/stick: there are two! The other hangs behind you, perusing you wherever you go, reminding you that you haven’t fulfilled the plan. Desire is a better driving force in life; it's flexible, open to change, and adapts to the present moment. Plans provide the illusion of a path, leading you to believe you know where you are going. Desire leads you into the unknown, into uncharted territory, to change, and to new opportunities you can’t even begin to comprehend before attempting to fulfill the current desire.
“Future plans” are dreadful and fallacious. A societally embedded guilt trip dressed up as responsible behaviour, meant to make us productive members of society while leaving us forgetful of the inherent fact that our lives are precious, unique, and fleeting. They inflict an amnesia-like state that veils our eyes to the fact that our experiences are what makes us—and there is no better way to gain life experience than traveling abroad. No one truly knows what life has in store for them. Plan all you want; there is no guarantee they will play out. If you desire to travel, don’t ignore it.
Plan-making is distracting, removing us from the present moment. We’ve all been conditioned by insidious forward thinking to be worried about the unknown, ashamed of our desires, and scared of where we may end up if we ‘don't have a plan.’ But it's bullshit. We should ask ourselves: what are we missing out on by not having plans? What doors are we closing? What avenues are we blocking by forcing ourselves to stick to a plan? What would happen if we just left life unfold naturally? Where would it take you?
If you enjoy my writing, you might also like Belize Foreigner Blog, the Lili Art Blog, or my award-receiving book Home in Good Hands. If you'd like to support this Substack and help me keep creating stories and essays about life abroad, consider subscribing, sharing, or making a small donation. And to those who already have—thank you. Your support means the world.
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For anyone interested in exploring this concept, I highly recommend Michael Singer’s Surrender Experiment. That shit will change your life.