I love a good challenge…gets me off the inertia couch and writing…SOMETHING. It generally ends up being a word salad, but salad is good for you, right? I like to think my word salad has lots of crunchy, salty bits, a bit of sweet, and a deceptively creamy dressing that is miraculously fat-free. But I may be dreaming.
Speaking of dreaming…fattymccupcakes, who is going to be my new best friend if she ever moves here (that’s not creepy, is it?) nominated me for the Future Challenge. So thanks for the mental shove, chica. (And if you haven’t picked up her blog – she is freaking hilarious. So you need to totally go read her.)
- Thank the blogger who nominated you.
- Next, link back to the original creator of the challenge, Dreams and Movie Screens, so they can see how far their challenge has spread.
- Then, share 5 things about your future.
- Finally, nominate 5 bloggers to share their own future.
So, about my future….
The challenge didn’t say I had to be totally realistic. (Not that I’m a great rule-follower, anyway. Speed limits? MERELY A SUGGESTION.) But I think it makes sense to chuck your desires at the universe. You can look at it as a goal to reach for, or a dream to follow, or some woo-woo hippie-dippie full-bore shot at The Secret.
Either way, I can’t help but believe that thinking positively does me more good than embracing gloom-and-doom. (Remind me of this in the middle of the night when my mind is racing maniacally to the tune of “the EEO report is due this month and I have to read 500 reviews and book flights for November before the holiday traffic takes all the good seats and someday my cats will die, my parents will die, and what if my kids or the hubs dies, they’ll ALL die someday or maybe one of my flights will crash and none of this will matter except then how will my kids buy shoes and why can’t I sleep EVER and my run tomorrow morning is gonna SUCK if I can’t get more than four hours of sleep and will my knee hold out, because if it doesn’t I am totally doomed to be fat forever and….” Do you know this one? Sing along when we get to the chorus. Anxiety always suckers me in to attending the after-party, and there’s no mental Uber to give me a ride home at 3 AM.)
Side note: I’m one of those peeps who copes by attempting to take control by taking action. (Which kind of explains the whole eating disorder dealio.) So, for example, if I’m having a craptacular day at work, I peruse job boards and send out a couple of resumes. To that end, I actually have a plan in place should something happen to my spouse: I’m selling off most of my belongings and moving somewhere warm – probably Arizona – but I’ve been eyeing this little town called Truth or Consequences in New Mexico. There aren’t many jobs there – most of them are entry-level – but housing is cheap, and I’d use this as an opportunity to simplify and scale back. Plus, the neighboring town is called – get this – Elephant Butte. Which makes me giggle, because mentally, I’m still twelve.
Barring tragedy, though…given the canvas I own and the paints I have, here’s how I’m sketching out my future:
Financial Health: I’ll have sufficient funds to retire more than comfortably by age 55. (OK, admittedly a stretch. 65?) And by “comfortably,” I mean I’ll have enough to both travel AND to make Christmas really special for the kids and grandkids. (Of which I’ll have four. NO PRESSURE KIDDOS.)
Physical Health: I’ll be in excellent shape (relative to most of the US – not planning on doing an Ironman or any of that cray shiz) and quite active. Since I’ll be retired, I’ll have plenty of time to work on my landscaping, as well as go hiking and biking as weather permits. And I’ll still be able to complete the airport sprint (when you have 15 minutes to get to your gate 1.2 miles away) at a dead run if I need to. My knees and hips will be in top form, and my bones will be strong. People will marvel at my energy level, and won’t add “for your age”, because they know they’ll get a fierce roundhouse kick to the cranium. BOOM.
Spiritual Health: I’ll be at peace with myself and with the universe. I’ll still read a lot, and talk up the issues, because that’s how we learn, right? The grandkids will seek advice and guidance from me because of how grounded and non-judgmental Grandma is: cool and calm, untroubled and relaxed, dynamic and feisty. (See “roundhouse kick” above. I don’t ever think I will suffer fools well. That ain’t in my DNA.)
Mental Health (#1): I’ll have found my voice and stood up to the bullying taunts in my head that tells me I’m not enough. I’ll know that I AM enough. I am whole and complete and have value.
In the future, I’ll be able to believe it – and I’ll live my life that way.
Mental Health (#2): I will finally be at peace with my body. I will have forgiven myself for taking up so much space, and will issue my thighs a pardon for their genetic makeup.
What was the crime, exactly?
I guess I have a way to go before I get to this Future place. But I knew that; that’s kind of why I’m here.
But, try as I might, I still can’t envision a future without a scale in it. I can’t wrap my mind around how to exist without it. It’s easier to picture other what-ifs, like my relocation contingency plan above.
I’ve made some attempts at getting better – I’m working on some healthier habits, and tried therapy. Well, for a while. I haven’t been totally consistent, other than when I fall, I’m trying really, really hard to get back up. And I usually do.
The funny thing about failing at life? If you look outside your lane, you see you’re not the only one sprawled on the cinders. There’s camaraderie in life’s pileups. That’s why we lean on each other in the blogosphere, right?
I think the key is to keep going. And if we don’t like the direction we’re headed, we can always turn around. Or start over.
We can only really start from where we stand right now, right?
I’m putting on my sneakers, my knee brace, and my zaniest running capris.
The door’s open. I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, visualizing the finish line so I have a better chance of crossing it.
I’d like to invite these five bloggers to step into the TARDIS* and share their own futures. Have at it, ladies! 🙂
*This isn’t my typical genre, but the kiddos got me hooked, and for the record? I am TOTALLY TEAM TENTH DOCTOR. In fact, I had a dream about David Tennant the other night that was so <cough> detailed and explicit, I couldn’t look the hubs in the eye for two whole days. Anyway, if you haven’t watched, take a gamble and add it to your Netflix queue. At the very least, you’ll understand all these vague pop-culture references that erupt on your Facebook feed. And you’ll never look at angel statues the same way again. <shudder>