Musings on the importance of planning...

Back when I was in Marine boot camp, my drill instructor told our platoon during one of an interminable series of classes that although no battle plan survives initial contact with the enemy, it was also true that without such a plan, we would not survive. The attempt to instill goal-oriented thinking in us yielded mixed results. For sure, I did not realize how important the lesson contained in the class was, and the lesson appeared to have gone in one ear and out the other. And as a result, for a long time, I was one of those blithely carefree souls who not only did not plan my life, but who also was mildly proud of the fact.

Planning seems particularly fruitless in the face of overwhelming odds. It's as if you've been given a shovel and shown an enormous, inifinitely large pile of coal, and told to move the pile from one place to another.

Who needs to plan, right? Just start shoveling, right?

Wrong.

It turns out that without a plan, it's hard to tell how things are going, and that can lead to complications. If, like me, you tend to workaholism, without a plan you never really get the feeling you've done enough. Looking back, you feel you could always have done better; you can always find a reason to beat yourself up for not having shoveled more coal in a given interval of time.

Without a plan, it's also a tossup as to how the boss will assess your work. On the one hand, the boss can stop by and look at all the coal you've moved and say, "Good job!" (Although without a plan, it's not really clear what the basis for such words might be; is the proverbial "sixteen tons" a "good job," or only "average"?)

On the other, if the boss is feeling a bit vindictive, or chooses not to focus on your good points on a particular day, attention could be directed to the "other" pile - the one that doesn't get noticeably smaller over time - and a completely different verdict could be delivered, as in: "You don't seem to be getting much accomplished."

A plan doesn't have to be complicated. In the case of shoveling coal, it can be as simple as setting a quota of coal to be moved over a period of time. Loading "sixteen tons" may get you - as the song says - "one day older and deeper in debt," but it also tells you you're on course. And that's worth a lot.

And if planning ang goal-setting are important for shoveling coal, how much more important might they be for living one's life?

Cheers...