Impossible Future

There’s sand between my toes. Gritty, damp.

More sand drifts over the wood floor of our bedroom. I’m up every morning with the sun, for a swim with sea turtles before a mug of coffee.

I wear colourful robes like Mrs. Roper; my skin is wrinkled and leathery from the sun. My hair is steel grey and wiry, and my earrings are huge. I stopped wearing bras years ago and have no attachment to what anyone thinks of me.

… this is my vision. A future self that I look forward to meeting.

At the same time, I’m enjoying and filled with gratitude for the life I get to live now, which was in turn an impossible dream held by my past self.

I remember sitting on a patio years ago with a close friend, making our way through a couple bottles of wine and a pack of cigarettes. I was untethered and uncertain about my future and the choices I wanted to make. She asked me, “What do you want most? Tell me what it looks like.”

I pictured a small room with a comfy chair. Bookshelves lining the walls. A space filled with plants, where my work was to talk to people.

A few years later, a global pandemic sent me home to work at a table in our kitchen. And then I received approval to move cities and continue in my role remotely, as there was no sign of anyone returning to work in the office.

Today, my workspace looks like this: a small room filled with plants and art. I’m surrounded by books and large windows that look out to my garden. And I spend my days connecting with people on many meaningful levels.

My offering to you is this: somewhere in the day-to-day, the office politics, the dumpster-fire workplace hellscapes, the exhaustion of too many responsibilities and not enough time – try to take a moment to dream.

Even if it’s just for five minutes. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. And imagine: what would your impossible future look like?

Contact me to talk about what you want for your future self.