My Life Planned & Organized
Change and Impermanence
This week I’ve been noodling hard on change and impermanence.
As a neurodivergent person, casually being asked, “So, how are things?” can send my overthinking mind into a spin cycle on turbo high.
I start scanning for something socially acceptable to say — something honest, but not too honest — and by the time my brain times out, visibly inactive, the unspoken window for responding has already closed.
And so has the chance for connection.
My instinct then is to jet — to exit the conversation and find somewhere quiet to dry out my emotions.
But with you, I want to tell you how things really are.
Right now.
In the only way that feels true for me, today.
As a poem.
How are things?
“How are things?”
Things are new again.
Things are blue again.
Things are few again.
I have no clue what I will do.
Again.
I hold onto the things I have touched — that have touched me.
My touch has turned cold because of these things I hold,
for if they stayed warm,
they would have stayed with me forever.
I would then have too many things.
Things I don’t need.
Things have slipped through my hands,
as has time,
and my hands are now stained
and empty.
I will fill them with new things,
as I have before,
things will be new,
again,
yes, there will be more.
Until, of course,
change turns things to blue,
things become far,
things become few,
touch turned cold,
again,
nothing left to hold.
But as long as I am warm,
as long as I am alive,
these hands will hold again.
They do so to survive.
Not to own.
Only to touch,
and be touched.
For no-thing was ever mine.
Only passing through.
You asked,
How are things?
Again,
I have no clue.
Life Planned & Organized with Alyssa Castro
Turned Cold
When I wrote “my touch has turned cold,” I realized later it wasn’t because I am cold — it’s because I am warm.
I am alive.
And when something has ended — a job, a season, a version of stability — I can’t give my warmth to what has already cooled.
Cold, for me, has become a kind of protection — a way of conserving energy when resources feel uncertain.
When income thins. When security wavers.
My nervous system pulls inward. My body follows.
Many Lessons, Many Losses
There have been multiple job losses in my life.
Each time, things became few.
Income felt uncertain.
Security felt thin.
My nervous system noticed.
My dog noticed.
In some ways, he is my nervous system.
Time, time, time — See what’s become of me
And yet — as time has shown — my hands have not stayed empty forever.
I have held work again.
I have held stability again.
I have held hope again.
Cycles contract. Cycles expand. That is their nature.
While I look around, things become new again — not because I control them, but because I am still here to meet what comes next.
Even in this.
This hazy shade of winter.
Your Life Planned & Organized
So, how are things with you? Really?
No pressure to write me a poem.
Just an invitation to check in with yourself.
Does that deer-in-the-headlights reaction feel familiar when someone casually asks, how are things?
If that question makes your nervous system tighten and your left glute twitch, you’re not alone. Sometimes it’s easier to say “fine” than to untangle what’s actually happening beneath the surface.
Change has a way of reshuffling our sense of stability and it can be very difficult finding your footing.
The Life Cycle of Change
Jobs shift. Roles evolve.
Seasons turn.
Money expands and contracts.
Energy rises and falls.
Our Life Cycles don’t move in a straight line — they pulse.
If you’re in a season where things feel few, or fewer than usual, maybe try these things that I am working on too:
1. Name the Season
Instead of trying to understand everything, simply name the season.
Is this a contraction season?
A rebuilding season?
A waiting season?
A letting go season?
Naming is taming. It brings grounding to the floating panic.
2. Locate the Warmth
Even in contraction, something is still alive.
Where do you still feel warmth?
Who feels steady?
What idea hasn’t cooled?
What part of you is still breathing with curiosity?
Warmth is your core resource.
Tend that flame.
3. Separate “Few” from “Failure”
When resources thin, it’s easy to feel that as personal inadequacy.
But “few” is a condition — not an identity.
Few dollars. Few opportunities. Few answers.
Not few worth. Not few capability.
Things become not few again.
4. Choose One Small Holding
You don’t need to refill your hands all at once.
Choose one thing to hold this week:
One application.
One conversation.
One organized drawer.
One budget review.
One hour of focused creative work.
This one thing is enough.
The Life Cycle Way
Cycles expand from small, deliberate holds.
Contraction is part of movement — what eventually leads us to our next cycle.
Planning, organizing, doing, and reflecting all live inside change.
Sit with that for a moment.
Planning, organizing, doing, and reflecting all live inside change.
Dynamic Living Inside Change
No season is static.
Seasons are experienced – not possessed.
You are not meant to own every season.
Your only job is to move through them and let the things pass through you.
Small steps. Big changes. The Life Cycle Way.
Resources
How are things?
Life Planned & Organized How are things? Page
Feel free to print for personal use.