Wabi Sabi plans and neurodivergence
Photo by Neil Baker
A single buttercup in a vast field. An image that isn’t quite in focus. There’s something very wabi-sabi about it. This is the Japanese aesthetic – and underlying philosophy of human experience – that informs much of my creative work. It’s the awareness that nothing ever is or ever could be perfect, complete or permanent, and that this is something we should draw attention to and celebrate, not just in our art-making but in our ways of working and living.
It’s when we don’t embrace the wabi-sabi nature of things, when we cling to the idea of perfection, when we crave the certainty of completeness, or when we fear/resist change (which by nature is inevitable), that we create unhappiness and suffering for ourselves and others. Or that’s my understanding of it. It’s often said the essence of wabi-sabi is ineffable; words could never capture it. Which in itself is a very wabi-sabi thing to say.
I’ve been thinking about how I might usefully apply this philosophy to the task of planning. I really don’t like making plans; I’m much happier improvising in the present moment, which to my mind is the only moment that exists. Also, when it comes to making plans the culture wants us to think in terms of specific, measurable, actionable, realistic goals with interim targets and predefined outcomes. That’s not how I like to spend my days and, as I’m becoming increasingly aware, it’s just not how my brain works (more on this below). In fact, it’s perhaps the opposite of how my brain works.
So, I thought now might be a good time to share my ‘Five Principles of Wabi Sabi planning.’ We’re entering the time of year when many people seem to love talking about their plans: What are you doing for Christmas? How shall we use next year’s holidays? What are your big goals for 2025? If you find such conversations as difficult as I do, you might find these principles useful….
1. Accept the futility
Plans will always be imperfect, because everything is imperfect. They will always be incomplete, because everything is incomplete. They will always change, because everything is change. So reject ‘traditional’ planning; celebrate living your intentions.
2. Practise the intention
Take the actions that are necessary to bring your intentions to life. Approach each action as a meaningful step on the path of living the intention – a mindful practice rather than a means to an end.
3. Cultivate responsiveness
Be curious and open about whatever unfolds. Plans change, outcomes shift, external factors influence progress – both positively and negatively. Cultivate responsiveness so that delays, diversions or abandonment do not lead to suffering.
4. Plan as a creative practice
Just as you would with any creative process: give ideation and planning the space and time it needs to unfold; include spaciousness, silence and contemplative reflection; enjoy the physical materials you use; welcome the experience of flow, the possibility of surprise, the opportunity for random intervention.
5. Replace milestones with rituals
Create rituals to mark different stages in the process, from ideation to completion. Honour those moments of progress and growth; honour the growth needed to reach the next ritual.
This list of principles is (of course!) not perfect, it is not complete, and it will undoubtedly change. But, like having a wabi-sabi plan, it feels useful enough for now, and that is its only purpose.
If you will let me change tack for a second – although you might feel this is all one thread – I want to draw your attention to a 26 project that has just finished. It’s called 26 Neurodiversity and it explores what it means to be neurodivergent, and how neurodivergence affects creativity.
Fifteen writers spent five months exploring this ground, resulting in a stunning body of creative work. I really can’t recommend it highly enough. The project team of Anita Holford, Ann Storr, and Lloyd Harry-Davis have done an extraordinary job. All of the writers involved have opened powerful windows into their own unique and diverse experiences of divergence. For me, some of those windows felt like mirrors.
As the team says in the introduction to the finished work: “The term ‘neurodiverse’ applies to us all. All human brains are necessarily different. But ‘neurodivergent’ applies to a specific set of people: who tend to be discriminated against because they diverge from the majority and the processes and characteristics of our society aren’t set up to include them.”
I haven’t seen neurodiversity/divergence explained in this way before. I hope the definition of the two terms and the distinction between them becomes widely known. And I love that the nuance is so rich in wabi-sabi. We are all imperfect, incomplete and unfolding – in ways that are uniquely diverse and beautiful. Something to notice, welcome and celebrate.