At my core, I am a tactician. I am shrewd. I can, if I choose, deftly manipulate circumstances. I make calculated plans and I execute them. My plans are flawless, and my maneuvering around and in between the places that inevitably fall apart is astounding. If I were not me, I would be invariably impressed with my ability to project and plot, with the way I play chess on a red and black board.
But I am me. So I know what it means to be a tactician. To have plans and plans for your plans and methods for the madness and maneuvers in the minutia. It means to be perpetually exhausted. It means to live with a mind sharp and nimble but constantly on go. It means rarely cherishing the monuments erected to your strength and ability behind you, because something in front of you is falling apart. It means picking up pieces, yours, theirs, and hoisting them on your back all while hastening your pace. It means being the go-to because you make the plans.
It means being tired and not being able to stop. You are not acquainted with stop. You only know go.
Part of my displeasure with my current circumstances is I have no plan. I see no road. I am not my typical five steps ahead because I am firmly rooted in Now. Don’t be mistaken, now is a gift, one that I have rarely, if ever, taken the time to unwrap. But Now is also an adjustment if you are someone like me who is used to leaving behind the spoils of the success they have manufactured to those smart enough to enjoy it, who thrives in clairvoyant machinations.
This is a lesson for me. A lesson to slow down, to live, to put down some things, to just let some fires burn, dammit, and live with the fact that there will be some ashes. It will be messy. It will probably hurt. But thing about being a tactician is that to a certain degree it lacks faith. You plan because you don’t trust that if you surrender to the tide your life is taking anydamnway, that you will end up right where you should be. I would like more faith and fewer strategies.
And when I learn this lesson, and marry it to talent for creating something out of nothing, I will still demand you king me.
2 thoughts on “Crown me King”
I could only King you if you had a Castle to dwell in. For a King without a Castle, is no King at all.
In church last week my pastor talked about faith and how challenging that is for us tactitions, planners, those of us who demand we control everything. I can totally identify with this as it is my life…I think I can display more faith when even if I can't plan the future, when I feel comfortable with now.. I'm working hard to do just that…each day