I woke up on a cold and gloomy Saturday morning with big plans sketched in my mind. 

I had spent the night before dreaming about how I might make the morning less chaotic for my 4-year-old son and me, while my husband was out playing pickleball. I do not enjoy playing pretend while being cooped up in the house, so I needed an alternative option, fast. One that would keep my energy high and sanity higher.

Nothing extravagant, but getting out of the house would ensure I would be my best self. The plans were set. We'd head down to the Meat Market to grab breakfast tacos and swing by our local coffee shop for a kid's milk & vanilla latte. Followed by a quick stroll over to the public library to exchange books for the day.

But before we could pull off his pj's and put on real clothes, my son had a different idea.

A dance party broke out in front of the mirror. Then, a few toy dinosaurs joined in. This, of course, led to bathing the dinosaurs in the tub. The longer he played, the more I could feel the tension — pulling between what is and what could be. Shoulders and neck tightening. My mind laser-focused on already being behind schedule. Then it hit me. There was no real “schedule” when I was the one who created it.

He was happily playing on his own in the shower, and I seemingly had time to myself. I had let an image in my head about what our day should be, ruin what otherwise was a perfectly pleasant morning. 

This Saturday was seemingly insignificant, but it stirred a feeling within, adjusting far more than my morning expectations. 

I started thinking more about how to focus on what I can control. And control I do. A hard “J” on the Myers Briggs, I can spend hours fixating on plans. Micromanaging to-do lists until I suck all the joy out of these so-called fun activities.

Here’s the thing about control... we don’t need it if we’re not holding onto fear.

When we loosen our grip on our invented plans, we release the tension and begin experiencing all the beautiful ways life simply unfolds. Beauty that we couldn’t have otherwise seen.

I’m not talking about giving up or running around aimlessly with no vision for your life. Rather, trusting you’ll be okay if even your best-laid plans change.

For me, it was something as simple and obvious as a Saturday morning with my son. A day that turned out to be different from what I expected, though delightful nonetheless.