Can I tell you a story?

My daughter spent months planning her baby’s birth. She found a midwife she trusted, hired a doula, set up everything for a beautiful home birth. She was so clear about why. “This is such a natural event,” she’d say. “People all over the world have babies naturally. Going to the hospital can create all kinds of complications.”

And she wasn’t wrong. All of that is true.

She really tried. She labored for hours, doing everything right, staying present, trusting her body. But the baby just wasn’t coming out. Eventually, she made the call to go to the hospital.

Her baby was delivered healthy.

I am so glad she went.

And I find myself wondering…what if she hadn’t? What if she’d held onto that original vision so tightly that there was no room for anything else? What if “I’m having a home birth, no matter what” had become a wall instead of a plan?

Here’s the part that gets me every time I think about it: the hospital birth turned out to be fantastic. Not perfect. But so good. The people were kind, attentive, present with her in a way she didn’t expect. It wasn’t the plan. It was, in its own way, exactly what she needed.

The Tunnel We Build Without Noticing

I think about this a lot, not just with birth, but with everything. How often do we decide in advance exactly what “good” is supposed to look like? A job, a relationship, a timeline, a way something has to happen for it to count as right?

And then we build a tunnel around that vision. We walk through life looking only at the small circle of light at the end of it, so certain that’s where we’re headed, that we stop seeing what’s actually around us.

I don’t think this makes us wrong; it usually comes from commitment, values, a real desire to do things the “right” way. My daughter’s intention was based in love, and research, and care for her baby. That’s true for most of us when we grip tightly to a plan. We’re not trying to sabotage ourselves. We’re trying to protect something.

But tunnel vision, even when it’s built from good intentions, can quietly cut us off from the very thing we’re seeking. It keeps us scanning for one outcome and blind to the others blessing that might be right in front of us. It can keep us from tuning into our bodies, to the moment, to whatever you want to call the wisdom that’s bigger than our own planning. The universe, spirit, intuition, God, your gut.

Letting the Plan Be a Starting Point, Not a Cage

I don’t think the answer is “don’t plan” or “don’t have intentions.” My daughter’s preparation mattered. It gave her a strong foundation to labor from, and it’s part of why she and the baby were okay. It was part of her journey and the process that was absolutely suppose to be that way.

The shift isn’t in the planning. It’s in staying loose enough, present enough, to notice when life is asking you to adjust. It’s the difference between “this is my intention, and I’m listening” and “this is my intention, and nothing else is allowed to be true.”

That kind of openness takes trust. Trust that a different path isn’t a failure. Trust that “not what I planned” can still be good, sometimes even better than what you imagined. Trust that you’ll be met, even off the road you mapped out.

An Invitation

So today, I’d love for you to sit with this for a minute. Is there an area of your life right now where you’re holding on so tightly to how things are “supposed” to go that you might be missing the wider picture? A relationship, a career move, a health decision, a timeline you’ve decided you have to hit?

You don’t have to abandon it. Just soften your grip enough to look around. Ask yourself: am I still tuned in, or am I just staring down a tunnel?

Sometimes the home birth is exactly right. And sometimes the hospital is where the real gift is waiting for you: not despite the detour, but because of it.

Either way, you don’t have to push your way there. You’re allowed to look up, look around, and let yourself be led.

Much Love,

Linda