Copenhagen

2023 Summer

It’s disappointing when it rains and the weather forecast tells you otherwise, especially while on holiday. It feels like a test. How adaptable can you be? How well can you roll with the punches this morning? Plans for the day become unclear, they must pivot. Perhaps, it is a reminder that plans are always unclear and pivoting, or it is their destiny to do so. Plans are made up structures, the silhouette of moments. They lack depth, yet simultaneously exist as highly detailed frameworks. ‘Plan’ is defined by Oxford as ‘a detailed proposal for doing or achieving something,’ also as ‘an intention or decision about what one is going to do.’ If these are true, then the fundamental skeleton of a plan is supported by proposals and intentions. Without these bones, a plan has nothing to stand on. Why, then, if a plan doesn't unfold in the exact manner as expected, are we disappointed? Intentions and proposals are nothing more than guesses or hopes of the way things will or should turn out, from the view of our own perceived eyes, based on our own perceived desires. Nothing is concrete. As far as I'm concerned, when a plan changes, it is nothing more than fulfilling a new intention, the proposition for a new proposal. It is, in fact, not a plan changed, but just another plan entirely. One that is unexpected. One that warrants fear due to the unexpected nature. We are afraid and we are uncomfortable by that feeling. At the core, we aren't disappointed that it’s raining. We are disappointed because we thought we had the day figured out, only to be reminded that we cannot plan an afternoon in the same capacity that we cannot plan the future of our lives. We cannot, for certain, plan to achieve anything. That’s more disappointing than rain on a holiday.