Future Gazing
from the Just Because collection (2002-2006)
There is a song line that has been running through my head. It’s from a Cary Grant/Deborah Kerr movie called An Affair to Remember. The piece from the song goes, “How do you get to tomorrow land? Close your eyes, make a wish, and you’re there.”
I’ve always been a future oriented fellow. I’ve found that solid planning can make any event that much more fun. Granted, over the last little while I have made stronger efforts to be spontaneous, but I still like to build some planning into my spontaneity. If planning your spontaneous moments sounds like an oxymoron, then I guess the laugh is on me.
At this time of year, young people are being congratulated for graduating. Another year of schooling has ended. For some it means a change of school. For others it may be their time to say goodbye to formal education. The world of work or opportunities to travel will beckon. Adults will be advising these young people to dream big dreams, reach for the stars, or some such clichéd patter. The advice is always well intentioned but somehow misses the mark when the future looks too big to weave into a meaningful context. We all have had moments when we have wondered what “tomorrow land” will look like. I am close to what some have called retirement. I wonder what that will mean for me?
Ads tell me that retirement is a time to renew, refresh, rejuvenate, and reinvest in myself. I believe that I can contribute to the creation of my own reality. Having confidence in yourself and those who you travel with in life is a great plus when change is on the horizon. My thoughts about what my future will look like are becoming easier to untangle. All this wondering doesn’t need to create anxiety; however, I wonder if it will take more than a wish to take me there. My experience tells me that productive things can start with a wish. Catapulting myself headlong into the future has allowed me to be there, at least in my imagination, before the moment of truth actually arrives. Future projections can provide some comfort. This dreamlike travel also minimizes the chance of a rude awakening. One of the tests for me to find my path in unknown future is to get a sense of the rightness of my visioning.
Like a heartbeat, or the rhythmical words of a song, we can challenge ourselves to be truly present, while guessing something of the present that is yet to come.

