Some months ago I read an interesting book, The Examined Life by the psychoanalyst Stephen Grosz. One line caused me to think about the profound effect our thinking about the future has on the present or should I say our perceived future. Stephen writes, ‘The future is not some place we’re going to, but an idea in our mind now,’ he goes on to say, ‘The future is a fantasy that shapes our present.’ I like the observation. We can become so caught up in what we hope for in the future that we ignore the present, we stop acknowledging the present reality, opportunity, even beauty.
One day things will be different is not the same as one day things will be better. When I’m older I’ll be an astronaut, sounds good. But today you might have to get algebra right if in the future you are to be anywhere near a space programme. At present we can easily see how this future fantasy idea is influencing our present thinking, working on our daily lives as it were. Caught up in the idea of sitting around the dinner table at Christmas with 20 members of the family, laughing and sharing the same serving spoon for the Brussels sounds, wonderful – why not? With the vaccination to our current global problem so close we are tempted to ignore our present reality. I see in the near future where friends and I meet in the local cafe, we shake hands, share a cake and sit mask-less and close together. As I dwell on this I’m in danger of shaping my decisions today – bringing it all forward – but I’m going to wait. Not because I’m obedient or threatened with fines but because it’s doing me good to live in today’s reality not an imagined tomorrow.
This week I walked with my daughter and part of our route took us along the side of a canal. To one side we saw green fields stretching towards a viaduct peppered with trees of varying autumn colours. It was beautiful. No road noise or barking dogs or passing planes disturbed us. The water was pan flat and for a few minutes the air was so calm it was like we had entered a portal into a world without movement or worry. As Hannah reached up and took a blackberry from a bush to eat I gazed at the water and remembered some words from Psalm 23. ‘… green pastures… God leads us beside still waters… refreshes my soul.’ For a few minutes in a 24 hour day we found both the past and the future of no concern for the present was all we needed.
I get the challenge facing us at present. I hate using the word us because we are all negotiating our way through from different positions. Some of us are watching our hopes and future plans slip away; we worry about not having the resources to survive. I wonder if we can find in this day a chance to put off what tomorrow might bring and draw in what today has on offer. For many, many people this past year has been the first time in their lives when, although not by choice, they have walked beside still waters, enjoyed green pastures and eaten a berry off a bush – they have experienced a moment in the moment. As rich as memories are and as fearful or exciting as the future might be, is today a still water moment?
Rob Wykes 