Plans Aren't Mutually Exclusive

Despite the fact that my cognitive psychology class is currently making me question every memory I think I have, there is one conversation with an aunt of mine I remember very clearly. We were discussing what I wanted to be when I grew up, and when I said an author, she said, "But what if you don't become an author?"

I was probably 12 or so at the time, so I was old enough to know that becoming an author was by no means a laid out career plan, but still young enough that I was idealistic. I didn't want to be asked such a realistic follow-up question. Later that day, I wrote about it in one of my many spirals. But I didn't write about the conversation. I wrote, "How am I ever supposed to achieve my dreams if I'm planning for when I fail?"

It wasn't my aunt's intention to crush my dreams or anything. She was just being practical. And though my reaction was that of an idealistic kid, I think it has some practicality to it, too. To someday achieve a dream, you have to believe in it enough to make it Plan A. That doesn't mean it's become an author or be homeless. It's not either or.

Never has this whole conundrum been more apparent to me than now, as my college graduation nears. I think I'm more excited than most of my peers (I hate that word, but it's the best description) for graduating, but I'm not set with a job and a plan and a career all laid out like some of them are. And it's okay. Because at some point when I decided to major in Creative Writing instead of something more practical, I knew this day would come.

And being an author is still my dream. Still Plan A. But what I'm realizing is that pursuing Plan B isn't about giving up, or about failure. It's about practicality. It's about acknowledging that the only way to pursue Plan A is to first find another way to provide for myself. It is not either or. It's Plan B and keeping at Plan A, just at the same time. I haven't failed yet. The only point at which I'll have failed is the moment I stop trying.