Rigid Plans? Out. Spontaneous Joy? In.

At 6am yesterday morning, my car was packed with ski gear and optimism. I was so excited to make my weekly trip up to the slopes.

As I started driving toward New Hampshire, traffic suddenly jumped by 40–50 minutes… uhmmm quoi?  (That's 'what' in French! I'm hot and cultured!)

The winter weather advisory was clearly worse than expected — accidents, ice, the whole thing. I didn’t feel like white-knuckling the drive just to ski for a few hours, so I turned around.

And immediately had a hard time coming to terms with that decision.

When I made my New Year’s intentions for 2026, one of them was to be intentional and to stop planning my joy down to the minute. I can be very rigid with plans — over-scheduling, routines, structure. I have a hard time adjusting when plans change, whether it’s in my control or not. Either way, buckle up because I’m gonna lose my shit!

So naturally, this was something I wanted to get better at this year. And of course, when you ask the universe for growth, it delivers tests instead.

Snowy roads while trying to ski. Cancelled plans I was genuinely excited about. Iced in at a friend’s house in Killington instead of our hotel. Skiing literal sheets of ice during the big Killington weekend. These are all situations I should be able to manage and move on from.

Me? Historically? Never.

Truthfully, all of these situations were out of my control. What I struggle with most isn’t the decision itself — it’s the aftermath. The grief that comes with choosing something I didn’t plan for. The anxiety spiral that follows. The effort it takes to regulate my nervous system once plans change. It sounds silly, but it’s hard.

This past week especially challenged me. Last weekend in Killington, Katelyn and I stayed at our friend Rob’s because the roads were dangerously icy. Even though I knew it was the right decision, I was immediately stressed — pacing, overthinking, mentally replaying if I could have solved it different.

My friend gave me a hug and told me I was safe. Not in a dramatic way. Not in a “let’s talk this through” way. Just a calm, steady reminder. This small moment reminded me that sometimes what I need isn’t to keep the plan — it’s reassurance that I’m okay even when the plan changes.

Then came yesterday morning — turning around again because of traffic and road conditions. And that was the moment it finally clicked.

Why would I burn all my adrenaline and emotional energy in the car trying to force a plan, when skiing will still exist… tomorrow?

So I went home. I booked into my friend Madison’s 8:30am SoulCycle class and decided to let myself have a day. It was fun, inspiring, and honestly, my body needed the slowdown. I’d been struggling to come up with new blog ideas, and I don’t think it was an accident that they all showed up when I clipped into a bike.

Not what I originally planned — but did the world end when things changed? Nope. Was I okay? Yup.

I’m realizing that my rigidity can be detrimental to being present. I make a decision, then spend half the day second-guessing it. Questioning whether it was the “right” choice. Suddenly I’m not even living the day — I’m mentally stuck in a past moment.

This isn’t really about traffic, skiing, or an unexpected slumber party with friends. It’s about letting go of my need for complete control. Letting go of expectations I had for how a day should look, and allowing myself to be more spontaneous.

My body reacts to changed plans like there’s actual danger, even when logically I know I’m fine. My nervous system doesn’t care that I’m an adult with options — it just wants certainty. Preferably written in bold, confirmed via text, and followed by a hug.

Somewhere along the way, I learned that if I plan well enough, I won’t feel unsafe. That’s a hard place to live.

This year, I’m working on being less structured and more vulnerable. I make a choice, I trust it, and I don’t go back. No second-guessing. No overthinking. Just living the moment I decide.

And yes — I still found unscheduled joy. At spin. Talking with friends. Even skiing icy runs last weekend. Even with uncertainty.

Here's to living loudly outside of the box,

xo,

Chartay