The trouble with being so emotionally invested in planning for the future, though, is that while it may occasionally prevent a catastrophe, the rest of the time it tends to exacerbate the very anxiety it was supposed to allay. The obsessive planner, essentially, is demanding certain reassurances from the future– but the future isn’t the sort of thing that can ever provide the reassurance he craves, for the obvious reason that it’s still in the future.
Really, no matter how far ahead you plan, you never get to relax in the certainty that everything’s going to go the way you’d like. Instead, the frontier of your uncertainty just gets pushed further and further towards the horizon. Once your Christmas plans are nailed down, there’s January to think about, then February, then March…
Oliver Burkemann, Four Thousand Weeks1My usual disclaimer. This is an affiliate link. Don’t like it, don’t click it. But if you think you’ll like the book, would be nice if you could support my writing by buying from it. My book fund greatly appreciates it. Which in turn feeds my writing. So really. By buying that book it’s a win-win for both of us.
The chapter this is from (chapter 7), changed my life in 2021.
Worrying and planning is essentially trying to demand the future pay you your dues – but it can’t. Because it doesn’t exist yet.
Excessive planning…is actually a fools game. Since then a measure of competence I’ve used at work are those who plan a moderate amount, who forecast, but temper expectations, and who allow for problems to occur, and then the space to fix them.
Those who overplan. Who demand every minute over the next few months are properly allocated… who make promises and assurances that are overly optimistic…
… well. How many of them have you seen fail spectacularly?
I know I’ve seen my fair share.
The former though? They get trusted. And they go far.
Excessive planning is a fools game.