In the final months of my senior year of college, a mentor gave me a piece of advice that shifted my relationship to my future. I grew up with the ladder model of thinking about my future. Since I was young, I was taught to create goals, take them seriously, and create action plans for achieving said goals. There is much that is rewarding about this approach to living life. This approach helped me value my own ambition and dreams. It taught me to be able to look at something big, and focus on small steps. You don’t climb a mountain by sprinting to the top. You make a safety plan. You think about what companions you want alongside you. You take care of your body and bring enough food and water to remain nourished for the way up (and even the way back down.)
The problem with the ladder model, for me, came when I couldn’t decide which ladder I should be climbing. Do I want to be a social worker? A lawyer? A chaplain? A swim coach? Will I want to get married and have kids? Will that even be in the cards for me? The ladder model assumes there is one “best” future. If I just had the wisdom to take the “right” path, then A would lead to B, and B would lead to C, and step by step, I would self-actualize more and more and more. Right?
At this meeting with my mentor, Doug, he told me about a different model for living one’s life. Instead of a ladder, he said, what about a constellation? Life is a lot like a starry night. You look up at the stars and they are beautiful and vast. Over time, humans have drawn constellations, connecting the dots between various stars, creating an image. What if you looked at your life like one of these ever-evolving constellations? In looking back, trust that you will see how the stars connect. And when looking forward, he said, go to the stars that nourish you. The stars that create a sense of curiosity or aliveness within you. Trust that if you go where you feel alive, even if some stars prove to be fleeting or false, you’ll grow and learn from them and they’ll still become a part of your constellation in ways yet unforeseen.
Doug’s model opened up my imagination. It gave me permission to take the pressure off. Every decision I made wasn’t a possible misstep or deviation from my path—it was a step into my life—a life that is beautiful and wonderful and complex, because that’s exactly who I am anyway.
What makes you feel alive? Curious? Full? Connected? Intrigued? How might we all give ourselves permission to center that in our days?