I don’t hope you dance. I hope you stumble. Sure, whenever one door closes, I hope another opens and I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance. And that you never settle for the path of least resistance, and so the song goes. Actually, I don’t mind if you dance. But most of all, I hope you stumble.
I hope your best laid plans are just not enough. I hope you work tirelessly for an outcome that you’re sure is exactly what you’re meant to do, but that in the end you never get there. I hope your sights are just not high enough and I hope you experience at least one disappointing day when nothing goes as you want it to.
And then I hope you stumble. I hope you stumble right into what you never dreamed possible. I hope your best laid plans pale in comparison to what is to be. I hope the hugely disappointing day that you think just can’t get any worse is just the ending of one mediocre dream so you can fall headlong into one that is much larger and brighter. And one that you never thought you were deserving of. I hope you stumble right into what God had planned for you all along.
Don’t misunderstand. I believe in planning and preparation. And I firmly believe in hope. I just think that too often we take the wheel and, with tunnel vision, hurtle headfirst into “the plan.” It’s incredibly important to have a plan and even more important to do whatever is necessary to get where you think you want to be, but you should also be prepared to deviate. Get some peripheral vision and invite some flexibility. Maybe just a little bit and maybe a lot.
Not to get too philosophical, but I think you have to believe in more than fate. Even with the best laid blueprint for life, I know that what some would call luck has to be involved. Actually, I used to call it luck, but now I know it’s a little bit of fate and a whole lot of divine intervention. “Leaving it to chance” is just not an option when a higher power is involved, as I’m certain there is. So find your touchpoint and let go. It’s not all up to you.
But do make those plans. You have to start somewhere. And find that passion. And chase that career or diploma or potential mate. But don’t ever underestimate yourself and settle for less than you should. If you do have a passion, give it your all. If you don’t have a passion, find one. Plan your future but don’t be afraid to detour. Your biggest adventure could be right off the road you so painstakingly paved. If you don’t have any direction at all, recalibrate. Still, I hope you stumble.
And I hope I’m asked to give a commencement address because I’m feeling like I just made a real good start and could fill in the rest pretty quickly.
Stumbling is a good thing. I don’t know why we’re so afraid of stumbling blocks. It could be that a stumbling block actually interrupts that breakneck pace you’ve set for yourself as you chase your future. You plan it all out and you prepare for it and you hope for a bit of luck or intervention. And it becomes you. And you’re sure of it. And then you crash. But as you’re dusting yourself off, you find the shiny thing on the ground that’s worth a bazillion bucks that you would have flown right by if left to your own devices.
Or it could be that you really don’t have much direction at all. You’re just bumping around aimlessly or semi-aimlessly looking for a good fit. Looking for something that you love but just not finding it. What you’ve tried hasn’t worked all that well, and you really don’t have a next move. Then I hope you stumble.
I hope you stumble just as I did when I graduated from college and began to look for employment. The idea that I might teach in a college setting never crossed my mind, although both my parents had done so. On a lark, I interviewed at a local community college before which I never even knew community colleges existed. I felt pretty certain that I’d be offered the job but I told my dad I really didn’t think I wanted it. He came closer than he ever has, I think, to being convinced I was a complete idiot. Of course, I came around and accepted the position. In part, it might have been that I didn’t have any other offers, but it scares me silly to think of what I would have missed if I had just said no. Idiot that I was, I just stumbled into a fulfilling career that I wasn’t even looking for. God looks out for fools and babies and apparently also for me.
So on that day when you fail the test or lose your footing or find that your train left the rails, you might just stop and ask for a new direction, or at least for renewed energy and confirmation that the plan is still in place. And don’t be afraid to ask for more. Ask for more than you can even imagine because your best guess might just be the start of what is to come.
Whatever you do, I hope you stumble.
