The Pressure To Have A Plan

(mouse clicking) Headspace Studio. (dramatic music) (gentle music) Hello and welcome. It's Dora. And this is Radio Headspace. (gentle music) There's a question that seems to follow us throughout different stages of life. What's next? Sometimes it comes from family, sometimes it comes from friends, or complete strangers. And even if it's asked with the best intentions, it can start to feel like life is something we're supposed to have figured out. Like everyone else somehow got the instruction manual and we're still looking for the first page. I notice this the most at family gatherings, especially around the holidays. There's this subtle comparison that can creep in where you start measuring your life against other people's timelines, and suddenly what you're doing doesn't feel like enough. I remember being at a baby shower recently for one of my good friends. She had just gotten married and shortly after found out she was pregnant. It was such a beautiful moment. And at the same time throughout the day, people kept turning to me and asking, "So when is this going to happen for you?" Or they'd say, "You're next." And I know the sentiment was innocent. It was coming from love and excitement, but I could feel the pressure building. In that moment, it felt like the changes I had been going through in my own life didn't count. They weren't visible and they weren't being celebrated. And there was this though in the background of, "Am I behind?" (gentle music) But the truth is life rarely unfolds in this straight line, and uncertainty doesn't mean you're on the wrong path. It's actually a natural part of being human and a natural part of the process. For me, this has become really clear through moments of heartbreak, loss, and grief. Even during the pandemic when all of us were faced with how unpredictable life can be, I started to realize that uncertainty isn't something that we fix. It's something we learn to be with. And the mind does not love uncertainty. It would rather tell a story like, "I'm behind," rather than sit with, "I don't know what's next." Even if that story creates more pressure, it still feels more comfortable than the unknown. And meditation has really helped me shift my relationship with that. Instead of fighting uncertainty or trying to rush through it, I'm learning to acknowledge it, to honor it, to see it as a part of the path, not a deviation from it. I think about this a lot when I reflect on my own journey. When I decided to leave my nursing career and step into teaching meditation full time, there was so much uncertainty. Nursing felt stable, predictable, secure. I had just finished school, I had my own apartment, and a clear defined path. And choosing something different meant walking away from all of that. It meant moving to a new country, leaving behind family, friends, everything familiar. And I remember feeling so afraid, afraid...