Category: Looking Forward

With all the blood and grime and gore published about daily life, it’s easy to see why it’s hard to be optimistic about our future. The simple reason is that it is hard to see beyond what we are all experiencing, what we are seeing, beyond the constant barrage of gloom and doom published on TV and the internet.

In the far distant past, say 250 years ago, most of us were serving out life-sentences of hard labor and expected the same for our foreseeable futures. Our hopes were modest, such as owning a third chair or a adding a second room for the children (all 5 or 10 of them). Only the upper 2-3% of society didn’t toil incessantly and their vision of the future was that they would continue to be in command of society as was their (perceived) natural right.

In the recent past, say 100 years ago or so, it was relatively easy to live without being threatened to be pulled under by the treacherous rapids of current events. Most of us lived a rural lifestyle, probably without running water and electricity. Most work was powered by the strength of our backs and skill of our hands. Our general vision of the future was that it be just like the drudgery our daily lives but with the hope that science and technology would somehow save us. Luxuries like electric washing machines, self-driving cars and flying machines were coming our way. All we had to do is wait.

But in today’s world, it’s hard to escape the 24-hour a day news cycle, filled with worst and most horrific events from around the world. The news organizations are trained to obey rule of “If it bleeds, it leads”, only publishing the worst events. Bloggers and podcasters are trained to distill from these lurid headlines the most outrageous conclusions that support their own personal biases (or the biases that they are paid to (mis)represent). All we hear about is the worst behavior and the lowest aspects of human nature.

If we want our futures to be better than our bleak todays, we must intentionally separate what we want from the constant barrage of negativity. Our shared future CAN be better but not if we just let our future happen. The future won’t just accidentally get better all by itself.

Instead, we must begin to develop, design, dream, and dedicate ourselves to producing a better future, not just for ourselves, but for our children and our grandchildren. Designing for our grandchildren can give us the perspective necessary to distance ourselves from the visceral brutality of current events and focus on what is really important in the long run.

When the next horrific sound bite or disgusting video clip is broadcast, decide if you want this event in your grandchildren’s future. Don’t get swept up in the emotion of that clip; emotional people are easily swayed and can make bad decisions.

Instead, ask yourself, “Do I want my children and grandchildren to have to watch or listen to this?” If not, it tells us about our core values, what we believe is important, what our hearts tell us are the true enduring values. A collection of these values defines the general outlines of your desired future.

If you are reading this post, then you are part of the first few generations where our future is NOT predetermined by our past. We have the opportunity and the obligation to define a better future and not just accept the future imposed upon us. We can craft a better future but we first have to have a shared vision of what that better future looks like.

A thousand generations have placed their faith in us to produce a better future. They struggled and fought every day to survive and did their best to teach their children to survive, based on what the knew, based on the dirt under their fingernails and the gnawing hunger in their stomachs. And the desire in their hearts.

Take a look at the next post(s) to view my visions for our future.

I was riding my bike over a particularly steep bridge over the freeway one Saturday afternoon when I suddenly was overwhelmed by the insights from a vision that lasted only a few seconds. I was almost at the top and my eyes had just cleared the bridge’s crest. At that moment I could see both the road right below my tires and the road a mile away. What I couldn’t see was what was between the immediate and the far ahead, what was on the other side of the crest.

What overwhelmed me was how much that momentary vision represented Life: I could see what was right in front of me (day-to-day life) and a mile down the road (old-age) but I couldn’t see what was in my near future. Was there an easy downhill or a cliff? A smooth ride or one filled with potholes and speed bumps? I had no information about what lay in my immediate future, only expectations. I assumed that the other side was just like the side I was climbing but that was all I had: expectations and assumptions.

Imagine how much simpler life would be if we could see that middle ground, that unknowable near future? We wouldn’t need any assumptions. We would be ready for the car crashes, the unwanted pregnancies, the unexpected windfalls and losses, the tears and frustrations and laughter. But if we knew too much, would life be boring, just a long dull trudge to our old age and eventual death? Would we lose our hope that tomorrow will be better and brighter?

Perhaps our collective vision of the future is so dark and bleak because we can only see today and assume that tomorrow will be just like today and that scares us. The nightly news tells us all the horrible details of airplane disasters and gunmen attacking schools, of hospitals bombings and politicians giving away our basic rights, of massive wildfires and floods. Our daily lives are scary, filled with life-wrenching changes that can appear at any instant.

So it is not surprising that many people want the future to return to our pasts, where the guys in white hats always won and the black hats always lost and were punished. It was simpler and predictable. But what we tend to remember are just the best parts and forget just how horrible the bad parts of the past really were.

Especially since fear-mongers who are literally profiting from scaring us about the dust bunnies of tomorrow. The tell us, “There are monsters in your closets and hiding under your beds: just follow us and give us all your money and loyalty and we will protect you.”

Which is why we need to start thinking and planning for the kind of future we all want to share. If we can’t imagine a better shared future then we will be forced to accept the negative futures that we individually fear. However, if we can envision a better future, we can start planning for how to get to that better future.

The first fact that we’ll have to accept is that we’ll never be able to envision a single future that everyone everywhere will embrace. But that’s actually a good thing. Mono-cultures are fragile and prone to collapse. Which means that any vision of a future that is big enough to include 8 billion earthlings will have to embrace and encourage a variety of life-styles and cultures and societies and economies. But most importantly, people will must have the FREEDOM to move between these various life choices.

The most interesting life for most 20-somethings is an urban life, with lots of lights and entertainment and drinking establishments. The most attractive life for most young parents probably consists of quiet neighborhoods with friendly neighbors who also are raising young children who can share babysitting and bottle-washing needs, who will move bikes and sports equipment out of their driveways without getting upset, who will volunteer their time and attention to coaching teams and teaching painting and other arts. Many people want to live in small towns or on farms; many others want to get away to the big cities. Empty-nesters may want to live near their kids or to spend their time traveling.

Human history has tended to limit our thinking to what our ONE career will be or the ONE place we want to live. Our shared vision should include the option to live where we want to live with the the people we want to live with and to move between the various possible lives to find the lives we find most pleasing.

What a joy to be able to say, upon reaching that blurry far off future, that I lived several different lives and enjoyed each one of them. They were each perfect in their own way.

no images of new cars and moving to new homes, nothing of what was going to happen between today and old age, a mile down the road.

When we crest that bridge to tomorrow, we expect to see pretty much what we saw going up the front of the bridge: another downhill covered in aging asphalt, more fading paint on the lane dividers, more cars zipping past us, the birds in the sky, the trees and grass around the soulless buildings. The hallmarks that define our daily lives.

Fortunately, we’ll never really know what our tomorrows hold for us. Every day has a potential for disasters and surprises, for wounds and moments of wonder, for mistakes, misfortunes and miracles (both large and small). When we lose our hope that tomorrow will be better and brighter we lose some of what makes life enjoyable.

Most of today’s books, movies and television is generally full of violence and pure evil beings and massive forces oppressing the masses. It’s no wonder that we yearn to be the plucky heroes who refuse to give up or give in to the Evil or the Big Brother forces seeking to control our every waking moment. It’s no surprise that almost every vision of the future includes guns and weapons that shoot to kill because murdering the controllers seems to be the only way to escape the constraints placed upon our daily life.

The only part I could see clearly was the road right in front of me: my today. The distant view was indistinct and blurry: my future. And what I really needed to see was what awaited me just over the crest of today: the white-knuckle thrill ride of existence, of the bumps and potholes and impending accidents that were awaiting me just on the other side of today.

We are all just a small piece of a huge social machine, a structure too big and powerful for us to believe that we could control. We feel like the feather in Forrest Gump: we are blown along by the winds of current events, swept away in the swirling drafts of today without any control over our tomorrow.