I like to plan. In general, I have a habit of living for the future, a habit which is usually admired and rewarded, usually called ambition and the pursuit of success. While I am generally happy, subconsciously I know I am waiting for my real life to begin, the life that is always just beyond my grasp.
This habit has always been with me. In middle school, I waited for the day when I would enter high school - when my life and personality would suddenly be transformed at the moment I walked through the brown double doors. That obviously didn’t happen, and instead of enjoying the reality of my high school life, I was constantly planning for graduation, when I would enter the exciting world of college.
The university life I envisioned was straight out of a black-and-white Abercrombie & Fitch poster: Me and my beautiful friends tackling each other during a football game out on a crisp fall day. Obviously my college life has not turned out exactly like that, but I can’t help but taint my future life after college with the same rosy color. I still feel like my real life is the one I’m still constantly planning for, which, right now, is the exciting job, the house in the country, the glamorous wardrobe, etc.
I am not alone in my yearning for the future. Our entire society programs us to work through college to prepare for the job market, to work through our boring jobs until retirement, and even to make sure to arrange our funerals before we die so our loved ones aren’t frustrated with our lack of planning. We are constantly outrunning the present, scared that if the moment actually catches up with us we will be unprepared for it.
Last week, though, I realized that no matter how much planning you do, you can never be prepared for everything.
On Thursday, the brother of a good friend from high school died of a very rare type of cancer. He had been diagnosed in June and was given only a few months to live. He was only 27 years old.
I didn’t know him very well, and so I was surprised by how affected I was by the news that he had died. His death brought me the realization that while the death of someone young is somewhat unexpected, it is not unheard of. If I died at my age, then, it would be surprising, but not outside of the realm of possibility.
His death makes me question the point of all my feverish planning. He was just at the beginning of what I picture to be my real life: He had only had his college degree for a short time, was recently married and had just relocated to another state. What is the point of this itinerary that I have made for my life when there is a chance that I won’t even make it to the middle of the page?
We claim we know the importance of living in the moment, of enjoying every breath, and of appreciating what we have. But in actuality, if we were really living in the moment, wouldn’t we be on a beach somewhere living in a tiki hut drinking piña coladas, instead of pouring over our macroeconomics books while a blizzard blows outside?
But while it seems like a contradiction to be slaving away at my schoolwork and fully being in the present, I am starting to realize that living in the moment and planning in the future do not have to be at odds with each other.
It is impossible to make sure that every moment of your life is spent in happiness. In fact, living in the moment sometimes means being really angry and miserable if the situation calls for it. Storms are inevitable - even in a tiki hut on the beach.
Living in the moment means paying attention to the way the snow shines on the sidewalk when you’re walking to that dreaded macroeconomics class. It means making the most of your day, not only because you might not have another one, but because you understand that a successful life is made up of a lifetime of days.
It means not taking the people in your life for granted, and telling them how you feel instead of expecting them to know. It means getting over the fact that your thighs aren’t supermodel skinny and being thankful for the ability to walk around.
I have realized that my life is now, and while it isn’t exactly as I had planned, nothing probably ever will be. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to enjoy it.
It will be hard to get over my habit of living for the future. And some planning is necessary; most of my dreams will take a long time to achieve, and drawing a basic road map is the only way I’ll get there. But from now on, I will try to take the time to look around while I plan, and remind myself that the life I’m in now is almost as amazing as that life I’m planning for.
Jessi Phillips, State News opinion writer, can be reached at phill241@msu.edu.
