
Today I took a day off from work to try and get a few things done that are hard to cram into a small window of time either in the evenings or on a Saturday. It was just a normal sort of list of things, involving repairing a freezer door, dealing with a car service issue, taking the dog to the vet for his annual exam, and having a locksmith come to the house to fix a broken deadbolt lock. The idea was to take one day off and deal with everything that needed to be done.
It was all going to be smooth until the freezer door replacement part didn't show up on the truck yesterday. And the voicemail alerting us about that didn't reach me as a message until after 10:00 pm last night. And the repair guy still hasn't called me back although I paged him so we can reschedule.
It's all a small inconvenience, but it calls to mind how many things in life we makes plans about. We plan our careers. We may plan our relationships. Our retirement strategies. Whatever your thing is, I am sure that at some point you planned it out in your mind, how you wanted it to go even if the outcome was not something you could control.
I recently taught a course at UNC in Chapel Hill, or at least a portion of a course I share with some other guest lecturers. My assignment has the students write a paper explaining how they think they would respond to a given disaster scenario. The course is part of a Disaster Management Certificate program. One student wrote a paper that had the most elaborately articulated plan for organizing a response I have ever seen. It was a tour de force of confidence that any situation could be easily managed if you just had the right plan in place to handle it. I cautioned the student to remember a saying the Marines have: Don't Fall In Love With Your Plan. It often won't work out.
The poet Robert Burns had a more eloquent way of expressing the same thing, and through serendipity today I was reminded of that. I'm not saying that we shouldn't make plans, but I do think we need to hold on to a measure of humility when we do it. And, I may say, allow for the possibility that something unexpected but even better than we planned could happen too. It might not happen, but then again, who knows?
Here's the Burns poem. You'll recognize the key phrase when you read it, even if you've never read it before. Imagine a Scottish accent when you read it.
To A Mouse
Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murdering pattle.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth born companion
An' fellow mortal!
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't.
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's win's ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld.
But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou are blest, compared wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Robert Burns



