TomorrowYou
Scenario planning for people whose bodies won’t commit to a forecast.
A book in progress, a method you can use today, and a small companion app that never punishes a storm. Built with — and checked by — people who actually live this.
You’ve been given two forecasts. Both are broken.
The hopeful one — stay positive, book the holiday, you’ll be fine — is one optimistic prediction with no plan attached for any other kind of day. When the bad day comes anyway, it arrives as your failure.
The braced one — don’t commit, you never know — never technically fails. It just quietly deletes your life, one “maybe” at a time.
They look like opposites. They’re the identical mistake: one forecast, everything bet on it — the exact planning failure that sinks billion-dollar companies. Except when you get it wrong, you miss your sister’s wedding.
You don’t need to predict your body. You need to be ready for it.
Five weathers. Three moves. That’s the whole vocabulary.
Nobody apologises for rain. You check the sky, you carry a coat, and when the forecast is wrong you blame the sky — not yourself. TomorrowYou borrows that entire arrangement and points it at your body. Instead of planning one unknowable “tomorrow”, you keep a small plan ready for each of five kinds of day:
Gold is the signature move: the good day, planned as seriously as the storm — because being ambushed by good news you’re too braced to use is its own quiet tragedy.
The three moves
- Know your weather. Debrief your last five storms; keep only the warning signs that pass two questions — does it usually show up before a storm, and does it give me time to act? The point of tracking is to earn the right to stop.
- Have a plan for each. The star tool is the Branch — a “yes” made in versions, declared up front: “I’m in, one of three ways. You’ll know by 6pm.” It was never the cancelling that cost you people; it was unpredictability with no protocol around it.
- Tell your crew. The illness is yours; the uncertainty is everyone’s. Agreements made in calm weather — trigger, package, boundary — so nobody has to guess.
Then you live it in five words a morning: name the day, run its plan.
One important line, printed here as it is in the book: you are the world expert on your own illness. This method teaches you nothing about your body — it offers shelves for what you already know. Borrow the five names above or rename every one of them tonight.
The Forecast
The daily practice from the book, as a small web app: check your warning signs, name the day out loud, run its plan, log one line at night. A sky of stars grows as you practise.
No book required — it explains itself in sixty seconds, and everything in it can be renamed and reshaped until it fits your life. Text size, contrast, motion and theme are all adjustable inside.
What it will never do:
- No streaks. Nothing a Storm can break. Your sky only ever grows — a Storm day handled with a plan earns exactly what a Clear day earns.
- No health scores. It never rates your body — only your readiness, which is yours to control.
- No account, no cloud. Everything stays in your browser, on your device. We couldn’t read it if we wanted to.
Where this comes from
TomorrowYou is the sister book to Tomorrowland, Harry Sharman’s book on scenario planning for healthcare companies. Companies pay serious money to prepare for futures they can’t predict; the people living with the most personal uncertainty of all were handed “stay positive” instead. This book corrects that.
The first draft is complete and is being shaped with real collaborators who live with chronic illness — their stories, their vetoes, their words in their own Field Notes. It stands on the shoulders of tools the community built first: Spoon Theory, pacing, and the energy-envelope tradition.