We are always making plans.
Perfect.
Thorough.
Impeccable.
For smooth work.
For things to work out.
To satisfy everyone.
But, what then?
What on earth are we celebrating?
You said, to enhance team spirit.
I said, OK.
You said you want to relieve work stress.
I said, yes.
You say you want everyone to be happy and harmonious.
I nodded.
But when I flipped through the plans, there were employee performances, lucky draws, countdown fireworks, leaders’ speeches, group photos, and a circle of friends.
I always feel like something is missing.
It's a little less... human.
Real moments are never planned
I remember New Year’s Day last year.
Not the company one.
The overtime work lasted until ten o'clock, and then I walked out of the office building. Then I realized that the cleaning lady was staying alone at the door of the tool room, holding a small radio in her hand, and the radio was playing very old songs.
She hummed along, swaying slightly.
We were the only ones in the corridor.
When she saw me, she was a little embarrassed and turned off the radio.
I said: "Auntie, Happy New Year."
She was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said: "Hey, that's what you call joy. You young people are really overworked, so go back and rest as soon as possible."
Then she continued to pack the pile of cardboard boxes.
No fireworks, no raffles, no countdowns.
At that moment, I felt that the New Year had really come.
Sometimes, warmth is just a bowl of dumplings
I saw that some units held dumpling-making activities.
It's not the kind of "leaders come to guide you in making dumplings."
It's the real kind. Everyone kneads the dough together, chops the fillings, and then makes long and twisted pleats. Then they joke with each other that the buns made like this are steamed buns. Look at it.
How nice.
In other places, delivery people, cleaners, and taxi drivers are asked to make embossed calendars.
Those people who usually travel around the city and whose faces are rarely remembered have their heads lowered and are pasting dried flowers on the paper one by one. They are pasting them very slowly and with a very serious attitude.
Their New Year's resolution might be simple: fewer bad reviews.
Earn two hundred dollars more.
The child will do better in the final exam.
But these are not written on the wish wall.
I hate that "perfect event"
The lights are bright.
The process is smooth.
Thunderous applause.
Everyone smiles just right, not too much, not too little, and fits the composition of the shot.
What about after it's over?
A mess.
The cleaning staff comes to clean up, move chairs, and sweep ribbons.
You are laughing in the photo, and she is bending over in the corner.
Do we really need so many grand narratives?
One elementary school held a science and technology temple fair.
The children set up their own stalls, explained the "Electromagnetic Maze" themselves, and settled their own accounts.
Parents looked on, fumbling to help.
A child lost two dollars and cried for a long time.
Later another child gave him half of his money.
Are these written in the plan?
Leave some room for “accidents” in the plan
I knew there had to be a plan.
There must be a theme, a process, a budget, and an emergency plan.
But can you add one at the end of the plan:
"Rule N: If any unplanned, heart-warming, awkward, or even slightly chaotic moment happens, please allow it to happen."
We have to admit that the fact is that what really makes people remember deeply is not the string of words pronounced by the host in a correct and harmonious way.
Someone sang off-key, and everyone burst into laughter.
I was chosen in a lottery, and the prize was a rice cooker, which happened to be broken at home.
It was after midnight, and several people didn't want to go home. Instead, they sat on the steps beside the street and said some words that they would never say under normal circumstances.
2024, or 2026, or any year
Time is a very cunning thing.
When we write a plan, we always write "20xx year".
It seems that that year is very important, as if crossing that day, everything will be different.
Actually no.
The overtime classes must be overtime.
The mortgage must be repaid.
There is no way to avoid any fights that need to be made.
But we can, at some point, stop for a moment.
Maybe you saw a firework.
Maybe it was a bite of warm dumplings.
It may be that the child scrawled "I hope daddy will come home soon" on the wish wall.
Write to the person who wrote the plan
I don't know who you are.
You may be in the administrative department, or you may work for a labor union, or you may be assigned this job as a freshly graduated intern.
You made modifications to the computer over and over again. The leader said, "Have a more grand style." Your colleagues asked, "Can the prizes be replaced with currency?"
You're a little annoyed.
But I want to tell you:
It doesn't matter.
Just write.
But after you finish writing, if you can, go to the event to see it.
Don't stand next to the leader, stand in the corner.
Look at those real expressions.
Some people laughed so hard that their eyes narrowed.
Someone secretly wiped away tears.
Someone held up their mobile phone to find a signal and wanted to make a video call to their home.
Those that are not in the plan are the real ones.
at last
The New Year will always come.
No matter whether you have prepared a plan, whether the process is smooth enough, or whether the prize is attractive enough.
As soon as the clock rings at midnight, it’s New Year’s Day.
Then what?
I hope you can still encounter a few unplanned moments in this world framed by plans.
Warm.
Clumsy.
alive.
May you be gently caught by those moments.
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