There is a special place in our memory. A place where which we are sure to visit sometime, but rarely do. It gets more crowded as we get older. It is a quiet and dusty area filled with trips to Italy, successful businesses, concerts, art projects, and lots and lots of coffee. A friend taps you on the shoulder while walking. “Why don’t we come up with a monthly essay plan?” or “You know what would be fun? If we each watched a movie a week and shared what we thought afterwards.” Plans don’t get executed most of the time. They get made when in love, and then the context changes. You arrive home, have other things to do. Did you write them down? You don’t see each other for a while. Priorities elsewhere. Why even bother making them in the first place?
But that isn’t what they’re for. Spontaneous plans are the children of our imaginations and social fantasies. They are a leap of faith. They might be executed if we’re lucky, and that is enough. It is an expression of faith and confidence in the future to come up with things to do with loved ones, even though we might never do them. If we wouldn’t make these plans, where would we find our adventure? I think there is honour in their pursuit.