When Plans Collapse
Sometimes life lines up neatly on the calendar. You buy the tickets, pack the bag, count down the days. And sometimes, at the last minute, the headliner cancels.
That’s exactly what happened in Miami. My pal Trish and I were supposed to see Lady Gaga. We had the outfits, the hype, the excitement of being part of something epic. Then, hours before showtime, we got the announcement: canceled.
It felt like a gut punch. The plan we had wrapped our week around was gone.
But here’s the part I didn’t expect: the cancellation ended up opening the door to one of the most joyful nights I’ve had in years.
The Disco Detour
Instead of sulking in the hotel, we shrugged, rallied, and found another option. KC & the Sunshine Band was playing. It wasn’t Gaga, but it was something.
And let me tell you — it turned out to be everything.
From the first notes of “Get Down Tonight,” we were out of our seats, dancing like nobody was watching (even though everyone was). The energy in the room was pure joy — sparkly outfits, sweaty smiles, and the kind of throwback disco groove that doesn’t just get into your ears, it gets into your bones.
That night wasn’t Plan A. But it was unforgettable.
Why Detours Matter
We spend so much of life clinging to the plan. We map out careers, relationships, even vacations like they’re scripts we can control. But the truth is, detours are inevitable. The job doesn’t work out. The concert cancels. The relationship shifts.
And while some detours are painful, others are invitations — to loosen our grip, to discover something we didn’t know we needed.
I didn’t realize how much I needed disco until I found myself spinning under the Miami lights with Trish, laughing like we were 20 again.
The detour was the gift.
Reframing the Unexpected
Detours can feel frustrating in the moment. We resist them, because they mess with our expectations. But what if we started reframing them?
- Instead of: “This ruined my plan,” try: “This is giving me something different — what can I find in it?”
- Instead of: “I wasted all that effort,” try: “That effort brought me here, and here has its own beauty.”
- Instead of: “This isn’t what I wanted,” try: “Maybe this is what I need.”
I’m not saying every detour is a party. Some are deeply painful. But even in those, there’s often a thread of unexpected good — a friendship that deepens, a resilience that grows, a perspective that shifts.
Miami as a Metaphor
Looking back, Miami became a metaphor for so many midlife moments.
- You think your 20s soundtrack is the only one worth dancing to — then you find joy in something completely different.
- You imagine how your career or family life will unfold — then you take a sharp turn and realize the view is better than you imagined.
- You expect certainty, but instead you get surprise — and surprise keeps you awake, alive, present.
Midlife, by definition, is full of detours. Kids grow up and move out sooner than you thought. Health throws curveballs. Work doesn’t feel like it used to. The map you thought you were following suddenly changes.
But maybe, like Miami, that’s where the joy is hiding.
How to Welcome Detours
If you want to lean into life’s detours instead of resisting them, here are a few gentle practices:
- Pause before reacting. Give yourself a beat before you declare something “ruined.”
- Stay curious. Ask: “What could this open up?” instead of focusing only on what closed.
- Look for joy in the moment. Even if it’s small — a laugh, a song, a smile — joy can sneak in through the cracks.
- Tell the story later. Almost every detour makes a better story than the plan would have.
The Night I Didn’t Plan For
When I tell the story of Miami, I don’t talk much about the canceled concert. I talk about KC & the Sunshine Band, the sweaty dancing, the strangers-turned-friends dancing next to us, the ache in my feet, the smile that lasted for days.
I talk about the night I didn’t plan for.
Because sometimes joy doesn’t come when everything goes “right.” It comes when the plan goes sideways, and you choose to dance anyway.
Closing Thought
So here’s my reminder — for me, for you, for anyone who’s clutching a script too tightly: sometimes the detour is the destination.
Let go, step in, and don’t be surprised if you find yourself dancing.
💭 Your Turn: When was the last time an unexpected turn became your best memory?