Jeez. 10 years in the future seems like such a long time from now, but in the grand scheme of things it’s only a dive to the end zone pylon. It’s hard to imagine one day I’ll open my eyes on an arid July morning, look at my iphone 20, and realize I’ve been alive for 28 years.
Would I reflect on my life?
Would I look back at this very paper?
Would I wonder about my next 10 years?
Probably not. Scratch that, definitely not.
To me there is no sense in creating a plan at 18 years old for my future 28 year-old self because there is no possible way to consider every possibility that one could experience in 10 years.
Have you ever tried to solve a math equation that has 36 different variables? It’s impossible, so stop trying.
I am just a raft sitting on a steady current being pulled to an unknown fate. All I can do is enjoy the soft, gentle kiss of the breeze, the silky sweat at the back of my head, the sun’s summer rays bouncing off my skin, and my old Boston records as I drift along the way.
Seeing myself 10 years into the future is hard, but seeing myself 10 years ago is relatively easy. I was in second grade, and back then it was much easier to make a future plan for myself; in fact, I had pretty much every step of a 10-year plan worked out. By my senior year in high school, I thought I’d throw for 400 yards and 4 touchdowns a game in football. I thought I’d be able to throw the baseball 100 mph. I thought I’d be hitting clutch, game-winners on the basketball court every week. According to my 8-year old-knucklehead perspective, I could do everything; maybe I could even discover the fountain of youth Ponce de Leon failed to find.
At age 18, seeing my second-grade ambitions reminds me of this prompt. I may not be the ultra superstar turbo legend that I aspired to be, but I am getting good grades and leading myself down a bright future. Seeing this development now has made me realize even making a realistic plan for my future self now will result in my future self delivering me a swift slap across the face through the space-time continuum for my stupidity. And possibly create a major paradox in the process.
Where will I be in 10 years though? I guess I’ve been dodging the question all along.
In a perfect world I’d be making fat stacks of cash curing cancer and playing lead guitar for Van Halen.
But I don’t believe in perfection; I believe in reality. And the reality is I don’t know.
Wherever my future guides me, all I can do is enjoy the ride.
If anyone still wonders where I’ll be when I’m 28, I’ll give you an answer in 10 years.
