The Future Perfect
Entry by: retiring
20th February 2022
(written by 'Retiring')
The Future Perfect
I’m not great at sticking to the rules, so when I see the title I want to alter it, just a little, but enough to make it right for me. I want to add a comma, a preposition, I want to alter the reality.
How can the future be perfect if I can’t manipulate how it can be for the best? The future, perfect; that’s just what I want.
Isn’t that what we all want? The thought of a future so perfect? It’s what we imagine, it’s what we strive for. An idealized version of life, that, once granted, will be where we want to be for the rest of our time on earth.
But it’s illusory in itself for that perfection doesn’t exist, or rather, when you reach that future that you have imagined, it’s not what you thought it was and it’s not what you want after all.
All my life I have strived for something perfect. I wanted the perfect marriage. The ideal man who would give me the children I craved. But when I got that it wasn’t what I thought. It was hard and I never managed that balance that faces all women who want all things now and the possibility of a future made perfect by money and love. That future wasn’t perfect.
And what is perfect anyway? My idea of perfect and yours are different – so am I right and you wrong? Is perfection really only in the eye of the beholder?
He wasn’t perfect was he? But I thought he was. Did he change or did my perception change? We began fine – he was underconfident but he covered it well. He covered it in the way that all cowards cover their inadequacies. He covered it by bullying. Oh, he didn’t bully me to begin with but he could see that in the future it would be perfect – I would be compliant and he could be controlling. I stuck it for years, he was meant to be part of my future and it should be perfect. Only it wasn’t so, reader, I left him.
Most of the time that I was with him I longed for peace and safety. I thought that would be perfect. And that is what I got. The small house, the garden and time to myself. I was free of the egg shells that I had walked on for so long. That was my future. Roll on perfection.
Perfection is like happiness, its not a destination, it’s a journey and that’s what makes it perfect. But it’s a difficult journey. Do you know how long most people live? It’s about four thousand weeks, you can look it up if you like, but its true. How much future have you got left? There’s a generally unacknowledged finitude to life which, once acknowledged, adds an edge to the future. And it adds a sense of panic. What have I done? And what is there still to do? How do I live now? I’m reckoning on a future of about 500 weeks. Shall I compile a bucket list and tick off each ambition as I achieve them? And what will happen if I fall ill and die before everything is ticked off? Where is my future then?
My future is now and it has to be perfect. It is all I have. It is all any of us has. If we wait for it to begin we will miss the now. We will miss the moments where life happens. We will miss the sunrise and the feeling of rain. We will miss the sound of the sea and the feeling of love. We won’t be open to the wonder of now because we will be so entrenched in the ‘what ifs’ of making the future perfect. Perfect doesn’t exist, the future isn’t guaranteed. In the words of so many gurus, we really only have today – please make it perfect in your mind – it’s the only place it fully exists.
The future is now and it is what I make it and that’s what makes The Future Perfect.
The Future Perfect
I’m not great at sticking to the rules, so when I see the title I want to alter it, just a little, but enough to make it right for me. I want to add a comma, a preposition, I want to alter the reality.
How can the future be perfect if I can’t manipulate how it can be for the best? The future, perfect; that’s just what I want.
Isn’t that what we all want? The thought of a future so perfect? It’s what we imagine, it’s what we strive for. An idealized version of life, that, once granted, will be where we want to be for the rest of our time on earth.
But it’s illusory in itself for that perfection doesn’t exist, or rather, when you reach that future that you have imagined, it’s not what you thought it was and it’s not what you want after all.
All my life I have strived for something perfect. I wanted the perfect marriage. The ideal man who would give me the children I craved. But when I got that it wasn’t what I thought. It was hard and I never managed that balance that faces all women who want all things now and the possibility of a future made perfect by money and love. That future wasn’t perfect.
And what is perfect anyway? My idea of perfect and yours are different – so am I right and you wrong? Is perfection really only in the eye of the beholder?
He wasn’t perfect was he? But I thought he was. Did he change or did my perception change? We began fine – he was underconfident but he covered it well. He covered it in the way that all cowards cover their inadequacies. He covered it by bullying. Oh, he didn’t bully me to begin with but he could see that in the future it would be perfect – I would be compliant and he could be controlling. I stuck it for years, he was meant to be part of my future and it should be perfect. Only it wasn’t so, reader, I left him.
Most of the time that I was with him I longed for peace and safety. I thought that would be perfect. And that is what I got. The small house, the garden and time to myself. I was free of the egg shells that I had walked on for so long. That was my future. Roll on perfection.
Perfection is like happiness, its not a destination, it’s a journey and that’s what makes it perfect. But it’s a difficult journey. Do you know how long most people live? It’s about four thousand weeks, you can look it up if you like, but its true. How much future have you got left? There’s a generally unacknowledged finitude to life which, once acknowledged, adds an edge to the future. And it adds a sense of panic. What have I done? And what is there still to do? How do I live now? I’m reckoning on a future of about 500 weeks. Shall I compile a bucket list and tick off each ambition as I achieve them? And what will happen if I fall ill and die before everything is ticked off? Where is my future then?
My future is now and it has to be perfect. It is all I have. It is all any of us has. If we wait for it to begin we will miss the now. We will miss the moments where life happens. We will miss the sunrise and the feeling of rain. We will miss the sound of the sea and the feeling of love. We won’t be open to the wonder of now because we will be so entrenched in the ‘what ifs’ of making the future perfect. Perfect doesn’t exist, the future isn’t guaranteed. In the words of so many gurus, we really only have today – please make it perfect in your mind – it’s the only place it fully exists.
The future is now and it is what I make it and that’s what makes The Future Perfect.
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