I have a friend who disdains planning. He has dedicated himself to spontaneous living. And for him, this resistance to planning on almost any level--work, play, relationships--seems to work. I, on the other hand, seem to be hard-wired for planning. It often works this way: Making a plan for what I want to accomplish enlists forces of the universe to support my intention. People appear, ideas collect, resources rise up, as if by magic, and my clear and beneficial intention begins to manifest, one small event, one small moment at a time. And one day, I wake up and my plan is no longer a concept, a dream, or a vague yearning. It is concrete. It is in the world of form. And I bow down and kiss the earth in gratitude.