Dachaigh #6: Ten years time.
- Apr 14, 2020
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 17, 2020
I was initially going to title this piece “where do I see myself in ten years?”. But, as I began to write, it became increasing apparent to me that predictions are of no use. Ten years is a long time, over half of the lifetime that I have lived to date.
Upon examining that half-lifetime of mine, I realised that I am no stranger to the unpredictable or to being unprepared. Who knows, maybe I’m just biologically wired to attract chaos; that would actually explain a lot…
The essence of existence dictates that, at the end of the day, anything could happen. Ten years from now I may not be alive at all. The reality is that our realm of control encompasses only our own actions - the narrative of the future is never for us to command. This inconvenient truth is especially evident now, at a time where many of us feel more vulnerable and helpless than ever before; particularly as there is literally nothing we could have done to make provision for this strange season that we are presently living through. These long and empty days are forcing us to learn and accept that we are not in command as extensively as we like to believe.
Ask yourself this: If you knew the entirety of what is to come, would you have the motivation to keep going? I don’t think I would. The very thing that makes life so exciting is also the very thing that scares us the most: the great enigma of tomorrow. The possibilities for all thats yet to occur are literally endless - and that figure is understandably daunting, but this lack of limits is what grants us permission to hope and dream.
One day, in our concluding moment, when the future that once puzzled us is our lived past, only then will we have all of the answers. I will enjoy the mystery now because I know that it will not last. I don’t want the predictable; when I reach the end of my days, I desire my life to read like a classic saga - full of plot-twists, shock reveals, spontaneity and passion spanning wild nights and quiet mornings. These are the things that make living so much fun; magic, even.
Thus, I refuse to try to forecast the unforeseeable.
Predictions turn to expectations, which often lead to attempting to force your own destiny - trying to micromanage your way to a future that your present self deems acceptable, without a thought for the innately erratic character of life. Attempting to play God with our own life-stories will never unfold in the way that we wish. If Brave taught me anything, it’s that if you get the chance to change your fate, don’t even try bitch - you will never succeed in the way that you initially intend. Que sera, sera.
But focussing so heavily on the unknown and what it *might* bring is simply human nature.
We are hot-wired to avoid suffering at all costs - be it physical or emotional. We are so intensely scared of what lies ahead incase it brings pain. But, I would argue that its not the potential bad-experiences themselves that terrifies us, its actually the distress that would roll in with them.
That’s why we’re so uptight about being absolutely in control at all times - to attempt to shield ourselves from possible sources of hurt and anguish. But, any power we may have over what each day brings is extremely limited, we’re unable protect ourselves to the extent that we wish to.
Pain will come. As with sadness, grief and anxiety it is an unavoidable aspect of the human experience. But pain is not an ordeal without purpose. The midst of hardship is often a valuable time to grow stronger within ourselves - it’s where we find out what we’re made of. It’s a necessary part of life that we may not always enjoy in the moment - like the wind or the rain. We only covet happy experiences that lead to happy feelings. But the very nature of life means that that will never be reality. If our ideal only encompasses sunny days, we are bound to be disappointed. Should we we attempt to administrate our way to that ideal, we are destined to fail and thereupon blame our own shortcomings, even though failure was always an inevitability.
Although our preferred plot-lines are often completely disregarded, in the end, God always leads us to somewhere better that we ever could have imagined. His provision will always exceed our expectations and wildest guesses. We won’t always get what we think that we want, but he will unfailingly provide what we truly need.
In 2030 I will be twenty-eight. In this decade, I will watch my youth fade away.
The next ten years will encompass most of my twenties, which I intend to be thoroughly wild - unsettled and full of adventure. Although, may I reiterate: I cannot write my future in stone, as my direction is barely self-governed - my intentions can only take me so far. So, the years to come may well end up being boring as fuck for whatever reasons. Either way, I’ll get what I get, and I’ll bask in every moment of whatever that may be before it passes me by.
So, for the aforementioned reasons, I will not be predicting anything. Instead, today I shall use this space to write of all of my hopes that I hold for the next ten years.
Hope is all that we have to hang onto as we venture into the undetermined. In the days, years and months approaching us, we will begin each day just as clueless as we began the last. Holding onto hope for the coming times is the very best thing that we can do for ourselves in the present. Looking forwards with optimism calms and steadies us, helps us make peace with the unforeseeable.
I’ve always observed the candles of advent to be arranged in the order that they are for this reason - when hope flourishes it makes room for peace, joy and love to follow. But hope is always the prerequisite. Without everlasting hope, we have absolutely nothing. God remains ever good, and wether or not my current wishes come to fruition, I am more than certain that I will be content, fulfilled and at smiling wherever I have been lead.
God-willing, all of that made at-least a little sense.
In summary: I plan to embrace each day just as it transpires. I’m ready to brave it all - the good, the bad and the ugly. I’m willing and excited to take it all on the chin. Emotions are evidence that we’re alive - so explore the whole spectrum, get lost in feeling while you’re still on this earth.
Maybe, in ten years time, I’ll post a follow-up talking about what *actually* happened.
Edit (17/04/20):
In response to this piece, a friend of mine (Hey Kirstin!) reminded me of this verse from The Message (a contemporary translation of The Bible), which I think is so relevant - it's a much shorter and totally biblical summary of all that I just rambled about:
"Give your entire attention to what God is doing just now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matthew 6:34 (MSG)
Sorry for the loooooong intro (does it really count as an intro if it's more extensive than the "main" paragraph? lol), here’s the actual point of the piece:
Hopes and dreams:
In all honesty and transparency; I do hope that I’m married before twenty-eight. I won’t even attempt to deny it - I really do not want to be an old bride lol.
(But: God’s timing is always right…God’s timing is always right…God’s timing is always right…)
I also hope that by twenty-eight I’m a mother - of one…or two (lol). Again, I don’t want to be an old Mum.
I hope that I wake up everyday somewhere that I love. South Uist? I would SETTLE for Loch Morar. But mostly I just hope that I live by the ocean - preferably the Atlantic; far away from the city in a cottage with a view.
I hope that I’m still writing and that I’m a more skilled than I am now.
Generally, I just hope that I have grown: I hope that I am better at forgiving, I hope that I am more patient with people, I hope that I am less cynical, I hope that I am more giving.
Prayers:
I pray that my good health and well-being is preserved.
I pray that over the next ten years I only ever grow closer to God. I pray that we hold each other close.
I pray for clarity, that God’s plan and direction for me is revealed and fulfilled.
I pray that Scotland is healed and reawakened to Jesus.
I pray that all of this continues long after my twenty-eighth birthday - until the end of my days and beyond.
Random goals:
One thing on my life bucket-list is native-speaker level Gàidhlig by thirty - so I hope that I’m getting there by twenty-eight. Something that really matters to me is that Gàidhlig is my children's first language/primary language used around the household.
Live on another continent for at least two-three months.
Finally figure out how to transform into a selkie.
Destroy the union.
Have a piece of my writing published by someone other than myself, somewhere other than this blog.
Gun a-màireach!
~Rose
*This blog is meant to be a digital catalyst of dachaigh. I hope that transcends from here, and reaches you through your screen wherever and however you may be - at home or not*
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