Dearest Rachel –
It’s one of the most stock answers in a job interview – or on a date, for that matter – and to be honest, the longer I contemplate it, the more I think it’s one of the stupidest things to ask someone:
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
In certain respects, I get that there are moments in a conversation – especially in a “getting-to-know-you” type exchange – where there’s a lull in the discussion that needs to be filled with something. And this is the sort of question – and the answer that follows it – that feels like it contains a certain amount of weight, as though it IS ‘something,’ rather than the nonsense I’ve come to see it as; imagining an ideal, or even an anticipated, future tells the questioner about their interviewee’s values or expectations, and whether those align between one side of the table or the other.
But after merely writing to you yesterday about the ordinary adventures of this past week between Daniel and I, it occurred to me that I was describing habits and possessions that, at this point, feel like they’ve always been a part of life, and yet never existed when you and I were together. I can barely imagine certain aspects of life from five years ago (I realize that it’s been closer to six years at this point than five, honey, but my point still stands), and how different they were from how things are now. The way life is now is the way they’ve always been…
…well, apart from your absence, of course.
And yet, I know that’s not true in the slightest. Just the fact that I’m writing you shows that the life I had back then is still with me – or maybe it’s the idealized version of it, I don’t know. But it’s shocking to realize all of the things of the present that, were you suddenly brought back her, Rip Van Winkle-style, you wouldn’t recognize. Not about me, nor Daniel, nor this town; not the places we go to and enjoy, or the ones halfway across the world that we’ve been to and hope to be back to some time soon. All that future that you didn’t have, whereas we think of it as a natural progression, to the point where we can barely imagine what life was like before.
Even as I tell you about things going on in the world, like artificial intelligence, I’m realizing that we – not just Daniel and I, but the world in general – have come to act as if it’s always been here, when it’s barely been out here for general use for even four years. This would have absolutely fascinated you (okay, maybe you would have agreed with Erin about its abilities to replicate people being on the ‘creepy’ side, but the tech behind it would have intrigued you, I’m sure), given your own background. And not just the fact that you were into computer science from the beginning; having been raised by art professors, and having a strong moral compass, you would have been on all sides of the ethical and recombinant arguments of its ‘creative’ abilities. I would have loved to spar with you about its place in the world.
It’s one of those things that has found a place in the world since your departure, to the point where it sometimes feels like it’s always been here, to a greater or lesser extent. And yet, we know that’s not the case.
Given that we have such difficulty remembering what things were like barely five years ago – and we can see those days in our memories! – the idea that one could claim to have an idea of what they want their life to be like five years in the future, when who knows what will be a part of that existence, strikes me as presumptuous at best. Sure, there’s a reasonable expectation of a certain trend line to one’s life journey, I suppose, some of which could be based off of past experiences, but life throws so much unexpected stuff at us that to state one’s plans with anything resembling confidence borders on hubris – at least, as far as I can see.
Don’t brag about tomorrow;
Proverbs 27:1, Expanded Bible
you don’t know what ·may happen then [L the day may bear/ bring forth].
Then again, maybe this is why I never had much in the way of dreams. Somewhere, deep down, I’ve always known that making certain plans for the future has always been an exercise in futility. “If you want to make God laugh, make a plan,” goes the old proverb, and I guess I’ve always known it. Oh, I had a few, when it looked like we might finally be at liberty from my work farce life, but even those plans vanished into the mists of time, to be replaced by others. Had you asked me where I expected to be and have been when I finally stepped down, there are things that would never have crossed my mind.
Not just your departure, either, although that’s just the most obvious. Just the way we make dinner – or get it – has become unrecognizable. You might be bothered that we don’t visit the Station like we used to, but there are so many more places out here to try these days. And then, there’s the stuff we’ve discovered on our travels that we try to find or replicate at home. Now, that feels so natural to us, but could I have seen this five years ago? Hardly.
Again, I wish you could see it; if nothing else, it would be nice to have some grounding, a reminder of how things were versus how they are, and how they’ve changed. But admittedly, if I think the transition from 2021 to 2026 has been stark, you could just go on and on about the differences between earth and heaven, couldn’t you?
