"Listen to my instincts and say fuck the rest…"

Today’s post title brought to you by the letter U for “undun” by The Roots which, if you have not bought it yet, means you are failing rapidly at life.

I’ve spent the last couple of years trying valiantly to squash my natural proclivity for being impulsive and spontaneous, believing, however misguidedly, that such tempestuousness was indicative of extended youth rather than, you know, just me being me. I am not sure when I came to link my inclination for impulsive action to immaturity, especially seeing as how I have never been much for adolescence, even in the prime of my own, but at some point I decided that allowing things to happen as they are to unfold, that not having A Plan, was childish and somehow the root of all my issues. Therefore, I concluded, I needed to not be impulsive. And not be spontaneous. I needed to be a Planner. Vision boards, five year goals and the like.

This has not worked out so great for me.

I don’t discount that there are people for whom this sort of living through planning works amazingly for. I just don’t appear to be one of them. Instead, I appear to be the type to make a plan, a good plan at that, and then somehow end up exactly opposite of where I planned and beating myself into oblivion that I am not adult enough to follow a plan like the rest of you people.

In short, it’s a clusterfuck of fail.

To be clear, I am a thinker. I am not irrational. I think things through. I am levelheaded and pragmatic. I am incredibly introspective. But somehow, through all the thinking, I lost the thing that balanced me; my instincts. At one point, mine were pretty good. I knew instinctively what was good for me. And more importantly, I knew, with a conviction I can’t even begin to describe, that when things went to shit, as they invariably do, that I, me alone, and my instincts were enough to get me through to the other side.

These days, however, I find myself second and third guessing myself. I check and double check things fanatically. And I mean everything. Mundane details at work. Directions on my GPS. Whether or not I have my damn keys even though I CAN FEEL THEM IN MY HAND. I am not sure. Of anything.

Not anymore.

That is not to say that this is a side effect of being a Planner for everyone. But maybe, it is for me. Maybe I am not a vision board kinda girl. Maybe I am the kinda girl that charges into things head first because I am fully capable of coming out on the other side of whatever it is.

And maybe that should be ok.

To be honest, I am not entirely sure. Maybe this is me being subconsciously immature, craving this harkening back to my impulsiveness, and I am just too willful to admit it. What I do know is, I am no better off for denying myself my impetuous ways. I have gotten no farther, accomplished no more, felt guilty no less, or felt any more evolved and mature than I did when I did crazy things like confess to loving someone after knowing them a few months and meeting them in person exactly twice. If nothing else, I am far less happy, even less fulfilled. Sure, some might have considered the way I behaved way back then to be reckless, but I was content in a way that I have not been able to replicate with my endeavored adultness.

So, I am pretty sure I am done with all of that. I have no idea if this is a good idea or not. It might be terrible. I might deeply regret this. I might soon go running straight back to the safety of a vision board, some sort of established system and a plan. But at the very least, I would like to get back to the person who can trust herself enough to know that, impulsive or intended, extemporaneous or strategic; I will come out the other side, if not unscathed, at least fulfilled.