Some Things Are Better Without a Five-Year Plan

There is something about a summer boardwalk that makes even perfectly reasonable adults forget themselves.

The lights are flashing.

Music is coming from at least three directions.

Someone is carrying a stuffed animal roughly the size of a Buick.

There's funnel cake powdered sugar on somebody's shirt, cotton candy stuck to somebody else's child, and a grown man has just spent $37 trying to win an $8 teddy bear.

Nobody seems particularly concerned about productivity.

And you know what?

Everybody looks happy.

Maybe they're onto something.

🎑 When Did Everything Become a Project?

Somewhere along the way, adulthood convinced us that everything we enjoy should accomplish something.

We take a walk.

How many steps?

We read a book.

What did we learn?

We discover a hobby.

Could we monetize it?

We take a vacation.

Where's the itinerary?

We go on three good dates.

Where is this going?

Friend...

Can we just have a nice time?

I am all for goals. I like a good plan. I've been known to make lists for my lists.

But even I have to admit...

Some things are allowed to be enjoyable simply because we enjoy them.

🍭 Funnel Cake Has Never Asked About My Five-Year Plan

Maybe that's why funnel cake and I have stayed on such good terms.

It doesn't ask what I'm doing next.

It doesn't care whether I've met my goals.

It doesn't even pretend to have nutritional value.

Funnel cake knows exactly what it is.

And for approximately seven glorious minutes, so do I.

There is something wonderfully freeing about doing something simply because it makes you smile.

Not because it's productive.

Not because it improves you.

Not because you'll still be doing it five years from now.

Just because...

this is nice.

πŸ’œ And Yes, This Applies to Dating Too

Now, before somebody says,

"Louise, aren't you the woman who keeps telling us to date with intention?"

Yes.

Yes, I am.

And I'm not taking it back.

Dating with intention doesn't mean conducting a performance review after appetizers.

You can know what you want without demanding that every person you meet immediately prove whether they belong in your future.

You can enjoy a conversation.

You can laugh until your cheeks hurt.

You can have a wonderful evening.

You can be curious.

And you can let tomorrow introduce itself tomorrow.

There's a difference between wandering through relationships with no idea what you want...

and allowing something new enough room to show you what it is.

🎠 Not Everything Has to Become Something Else

We do this outside of relationships too.

We have a lovely experience and immediately ask:

What's next?

How do I recreate it?

How do I make it bigger?

How do I make it last?

Maybe we don't always need to.

Sometimes the concert was wonderful because it was just one night.

Sometimes the vacation was special because we couldn't stay for long.

Sometimes the friendship belonged to a particular season.

Sometimes the date was simply a really good date.

Something doesn't have to last forever to have been worth experiencing.

πŸ˜‚ Louise Laugh

Nobody gets on the Ferris wheel and demands to know where the relationship is going.

We know where it's going.

Around.

We still pay for the ride.

Perhaps there's a lesson in there somewhere.

πŸ’₯ Louise's Truth Bomb

You are allowed to enjoy something without immediately asking what it's going to become.

That doesn't mean ignoring your standards.

It doesn't mean accepting confusion.

And it definitely doesn't mean handing someone unlimited access to your life just because they bought you cotton candy.

It simply means being present long enough to experience something before deciding what it means.

πŸŒ™ One Last Trip Around

Maybe that's one of the things Summer has been trying to teach us.

Not everything needs an agenda.

Not every moment needs a lesson.

Not every experience needs a five-year plan.

Sometimes you ride the Ferris wheel.

Eat the funnel cake.

Laugh at yourself.

Enjoy the company.

Watch the lights come on.

And let a perfectly good moment be...

a perfectly good moment.

Because a life well lived isn't made only from the things that lasted.

It's also made from the moments that were simply worth having.

πŸ’œ

Louise

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Summer Has a Way of Making Every Story Feel Like the Beginning.