Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

It first cropped up when I was young - this weed of a question.

Young enough to indulge, slack-jawed and smack-loud, on a Bubblicious slab while I mulled it over.

Where do you see yourself 5 years from now? 10 years from now?

5 years is an eon away for a kid with an allowance and no calendar. The wisdom of my youth would croak an answer bland enough for the question to die there. I would walk away unscathed. Unbothered.

But like the shape-shifting hydra it is, the question continued to emerge in various forms. Complicating the crossroads and plateaus of life.

A promotion? That's great, but, what's next? What's the big picture?

How long can you really sell someone else's software? It’s a racket, right?

Congratulations on your engagement - when's the wedding?

Newlyweds?! When will you have babies?

The problem with these probes is that they normalize fast-forwarding through your life. Charging through opportunities to practice mindfulness like a new driver perfecting the "California Roll".

When your measuring stick is 5 years long what are you missing?

I wish I could dismiss the question in its entirety, but that's not fair. There's value in mapping out what's important to you. Defining milestones. Planning for the future. 

I wouldn't advocate for pure hedonism but I wouldn't idealize slavish devotion to time management either.

But I’m finding there’s teeth in the question as you age. A history of your responses to audit. An urgency in your newfound respect for the speed of time. 

I’m trying to embrace the precious now but afraid of the opportunities missed if I don’t keep running ahead. Even if I’m running blindly I’m still somewhere new, right? Better to push myself onwards than be pulled forward involuntarily.

I remember when my brother and I were finally old enough to walk to the outlet mall by ourselves. It was half a mile from our house but, bikeless and with small legs, it was a journey. We’d take our hard earned cash ($15 for me, $10 for him) and set out to strike gold at the Sweet Factory. 

Resplendent with our loot of sour belts and gummy worms, we’d head back. Sugar-high, skippin’, and smackin’ a Bubblicious brick, the road home had a different sheen. 

If time could stretch that journey back, I’d like it to elongate these days. I’d like to create an arsenal of small eternities. Moments I can hop into to savor their little forevers.  

And I guess that’s what I hate about this 5 year question. Maybe you’re stealing a forever from me. Maybe I like the present a little too much to wager it on small talk like this.

You ask that question, and I get that unsettled, “you are small” feeling. Your today is less valuable than the tomorrow you might produce.

That’s on me. I know I have more to do. Sometimes I’m just not certain what that “doing” is or looks like. But I’m intrigued by the road ahead and hungry for tomorrow. I just don’t need to be policed about my goals.

So, 5 years from now, whatever I imagine my life might look like, it all seems plausible. I guess that’s the terror and the might of posing the question. 

I see myself as happy. 

Sneaking in a slice or two of calorically dense Bubblicious hunks while I try to figure it all out.