Here’s What I Want

Here’s what I want:

I want to be vibrant and do amazing things.

I want to be relevant.

I want to be seen.

I want to live constantly and reverently attempting the impossible.

I want to write a book.

I want to do a float-through in yoga.

I want to connect with interesting people.

I want to stay current with AI, learn video editing, plan workshops, and have a never-ending string of engaging projects. 

At age 100, I still want to carry groceries, get up off the floor, open a jar, hike up a hill, and pick up a 30-pound grandchild.

Is this possible? Is this reasonable? Yes. Yes it is.

But only if I do stuff now to make it possible. Only if I focus on this Future Self I want to be. 

I already do my Future Self little favors like setting up the coffee the night before so I only have to push a button in the morning. Or making my bed every day, so I get to tuck into smooth sheets at night.

I do these little kindnesses for my Future Self, and my Future Self appreciates them. 

However, it becomes more challenging when the goal is to do a float-through, which requires core, arm, and shoulder strength. Or write a book that requires intellectual patience, discipline, and time.

Present Kath would rather eat ice cream and scroll social media than go to the gym or hit the yoga mat, or struggle with words and ideas day after day.

But if I want my future to be satisfying, happy, and worth living, I have to consider my choices now in light of  the person I want to be in that imaginary future. I have to ask: What’s the best decision here in the Present for Future me? 

I know Future Kath will thank me for eating vegetables, going on long walks, and lifting heavy weights instead of sitting and scrolling.

But in hard moments, I know I will be tempted to ask: do I want Future Kath to be happy, or do I want this Häagen-Dazs and Netflix bingeing Kath to be happy? 

In moments of weakness, I know I will question my wants. 

Is this what I really want, or is this some bullshit  society wants me to want, or my mother wants me to want, or my teachers, or church, etc?

And how much do I want it? Will I be sad at the end of my life if I didn’t at least try to be vibrant, relevant, seen, and strong? How will I feel if I didn’t at least try to write that book or master that pose?

I need to nurture a closer and more caring relationship with this Future Self. Maybe even give her a name. Talk to her in my morning pages.

 I imagine her sitting out there in the misty future, depending on me like a sort of Tamagotchi avatar of myself that I need to feed, clean, play with, and train to ensure its survival, growth, and happiness.

My intuition tells me that this Future Self depends on me to be a good steward of my present life, and make good decisions so that when time collapses in on itself and we meet at last, we’ll be justifiably proud of the life we created together.