the future is a randomised projectile spray, not a neat stream

 

I’m writing this on Wednesday. It was 12 months ago on this day that I recovered consciousness in an ambulance with defibrillator paddles hovering over my chest after 10 seconds of flatlining. Maria spent the best part of 30 minutes in an emergency department waiting room not knowing if I was alive or dead. A few days prior to that, my worklife had been violently and unexpectedly upended by completely unrelated incidents. Our lives would be catapulted in a direction we had no inclination of a week before.

And we are not alone, in fact unexpected life-changing trauma is common. Economic and social privilege does not insure or protect us. A few months prior to that fateful week 12 months ago, my mate Muz and I collided in the surf and for a terrifying ½ hour there were five of us lying and kneeling on a cold morning beach with the waves lapping us, not knowing if he would ever have use of his limbs again. He has recovered almost completely, but it could have been different.

Life is fragile. We really and truly don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Thankfully, almost always, tomorrow turns out just fine, and these dire probabilities are other people’s problems. But over the years, as different traumas and tragedies have invaded our naive comfortable lives, we have committed to living with ‘no regrets’. When opportunities come along to try something different, or we feel the universe nudging or inviting new pathways, we’ve chosen not to resist, to instead ask ‘why not?’

And so this series of posts maps a path into an uncertain year. We find it hard to comprehend the things that 2024 dished up, the twists and turns, not just of our circumstances, but of our inner lives and the wrestling with our demons and angels.

I can’t imagine what I’ll be reflecting back on this time next year. I do know that the series of world, national, community, family and personal events will be like a spray of random as-yet-unknown dramas. I’m glad I have no idea, I’d be paralysed with at least curiosity if not fear.

And so all I’ve got is now. All I’ll ever have is now, A series of nows. The projectile spray that is the future cannot be stopped. When I think of the future I sometimes imagine it to be like the steady stream of water from a hose, a clean predictable trajectory adjusted by the intention of how I’m holding the hose. But that is a fantasy. I only have to look back on the events of 2024 to know it to be so.

And so my question to myself is, ‘what does it mean to live well, in this world of circumstantial landmines, of random projectile event sprays.

There are two things that I think form the answer for me. One is the theme of the last couple of posts, the discipline to live in the now, to appreciate that the future is never real, it is only a hypothetical (until it actually happens) and so hope and fear of situations in the future are a waste of energy. And guilt or regret of the past is similarly a drain on my precious energy reserve. Yes, the future will actually come, but I’ll deal with it then!

[It’s difficult to convey how meaningful this is. My suspicion is that many readers will understand the words, but not appreciate the radical change it makes in my consciousness. For example, this coming Wednesday I kick of a leadership program that has been in the making for 12 months. I would normally be feeling a bit nervous or anxious. I’ve invested so much emotionally and intellectually in designing it and recruiting participants. What will they think? Will it go well? What if something goes wrong or someone doesn’t turn up or comes late?

Instead of ruminating on these questions, living in the now means I simply don’t. I know I have prepared well. I trust my capabilities to host and facilitate. I’ve done everything I could to plan and curate preliminary connections between participants. Wednesday will take care of itself. Today, I will focus on what’s mine to do today. Wednesday is not on my mind at all, it has consumed zero energy, despite it’s significance for me.]

And the other thing (alongside the discipline to live in the now) is to prioritise and focus on the things that will be my foundation if all else fails. I play this game with myself, taking different pieces of my comfortable world out and imaging life with them. Home, income, various relationships. Health. And I wonder what I’ll need to help me navigate the trauma. My inner world, my psychological and emotional health is up there. Relationships with significant others is up there.

I hope I don’t end up in an ambulance again this year, especially with the kind of severity I experienced this time last year. But I know with confidence that I will not be able to predict what will happen during 2025, all I can do is ensure I embrace ‘now’ with as much intention and health as I can, and continue the long slow tedious work of cultivating inner world strength.

Of course, it’s possible, maybe even probable, that life will go swimmingly thank you very much. But my choice is not to place unrealistic hopeful expectations of a fanatised future, nor fear a set of circumstances that only exist in probability. All I’ve got is now and the immediate step(s) to get me to the next now … and an inner compass that points to ‘why not?’ and ‘no regrets’.