The future used to be my happy place. A place where I would be free to dream, achieve, and prosper. A place I would propel myself at the grand old age of 15, having come home from countless awful days at school, wishing it was all different. Fast forward seven years and things are not how I imagined they would be. For want of a more elegant phrase, life comes at ya fast.
What I am experiencing now is the future of 15-year-old Clodagh. In some respects, it’s exactly how I wanted it to be, and many of the worries I faced at that age are a thing of the past. I have, however, gone through excruciating psychological pain that I didn’t account for in the slightest. Pain that seeps into all elements of my life, tainting everything I love and live for. It’s been fun!
The changes I have endured mean that the future is a very, very different place now. I don’t dream of liberation so much as I crave security and long for contentedness. What’s more, seven years from now I’ll be 29, which is terrifying. To be frank, if I don’t have my life in order by then, I know that I’m going to feel like a complete failure. Mainly in terms of my career.
There is a simple remedy to this problem; settle right on down into a cosy, secure career and make peace with my life as it is. It almost sounds seductive. Certainty, approval, and financial security. What more could you want?!
This is where the lulling comes into play. I feel as though security is a kind of sleep you can fall into, blissfully swaddled in the rhythm of life – not dissimilar to the philosophy of Gurdjieff, who believed we all live in a kind of waking hypnosis.
I really, really, really do not want to succumb to security. This, however, is where the shouting takes centre stage. In order to live, we do need security of some kind. Financial security, a roof over our heads, etc. For this to happen, it goes without saying that stability in your profession is a huge help, if not essential. The worry that I could one day be struggling to keep a roof over my head yells at me every single time I think about the future. It ain’t fun.
There’s no real conclusion to this post, other than the fact that I know how hard I’ll have to fight both my instincts and the naysayers to prevent myself from falling asleep. I’d rather be painfully aware than blissfully unaware of what life could be like.
Love and luck,