5 year plan - what's the hype??
and a note on clinging (perhaps too hard) to the present
Lately I’ve been spending a bit more time on Facebook as we’ve tried selling some items we no longer need or use (side bar: since when did Facebook get SO incredibly bizarre?.. - a bunch of celebrity lore and chain mail-esque reposts - get me out of there!!!).
Most recently, I got a “hello you old hag, remember this from 5 years ago???” plastered on my home page. And it was a photo of me graduating from PA school.
Surely, that can’t be right.
(I count on my fingers from 2019 to 2024)
Shaking my head in disbelief, somehow it rings true. 5 whole years of being a PA (though only 4 of those years working because burnout and the job market and COVID, etc. etc. etc.).
There are certain numbers that seem to automatically induce nostalgia, 5 being one of them.
Just recently my dad asked me at dinner - so what’s the 5 year plan?
And I genuinely couldn’t answer that question. Perhaps it comes as a surprise that I’ve spent little to no time thinking about this, especially as someone who thrives on structure, planning, and foresight.
On the date of writing this, I am nearly exactly 32.5 years old. (Baffling!! How did that happen?!)
When I think of myself as someone who is 32, I think of someone who has a little bit figured out, and a lot of bit to go. Though then I was reading one of my favorite newsletters this week, someone who I admire and view as chock full of life experience and wisdom, I found myself open mouthed in shock when realizing we were the same age. I actually may be a bit older.
My silly reptilian brain hasn’t caught up with my internal rings. I still feel just as much in my 20s as I did 5, or even 10, years ago.
But whenever I think about these landmarks, and even when I think about what the next 5 years will bring, I’m then forced to think about the number at the end of that timeline.
37.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to a little chill creeping down my forearms and a heaviness lodged in my chest when pausing my gaze upon that number.
Similar to when writing about my choice to pursue Botox, I feel firmly straddled on this line of pro and anti-aging.
It is not that I think 37 is old - not at all. But aging in general has other implications. Because when I think about myself aging another 5 years, it also means thinking about my parents, grandparents, and *gulp* Red 5 years older. It also probably means being much firmer in my decision to have / not have children.
It is absolutely a gift to age, and I hope I have many more than 5 years left - I (almost desperately) need it to be so. Though I recognize that while life is beautiful, it can be short and quite unfair in so many ways.
This year, I had a few very dear friends experience tragedy and loss within their own families. It was not my central grief, but I grieved for and with them. And when this happens, it’s impossible not to think of myself in their shoes.
I feel so overwhelming lucky and grateful that my life feels as it does now, with those who I’m close with still so physically close.
I love it here. These days are so good. And I’m not quite sure how to loosen the grip of the cling - gripping so tightly to these good old days without feeling nostalgia and a little bit of mourning while living them.
I feel so firmly rooted in the goodness of this age, and of this presence, that I’m therefore very resistant to think about the next 5. I feel like a toddler, kicking and screaming, and wanting everything to remain the same.
For the first time, I think I’m really here. Really present and soaking in the little neighborhood walks, the dog cuddles, the afternoons lounging and reading, picking out paint swatches, making my sister a birthday cake, heading to an antique fair with my mom. I’m leaving my phone out of my bedroom, and not charging it next to my head at night. I’m actually forgetting which room I left my phone in, rather than having it permanently glued to my side.
It reminds me of something learned during my yoga teacher training - the art of non-attachment. Even then, I took issue with it.
Because how can you not cling to and cherish the good when you’re square in it. Surely I understand the opposite side of this, not attaching to the suffering. But it’s hard not to cling when life feels so soft and sweet.
For this reason, I’m resistant to the 5 year plan. Very much so, actually.
And this post is an exploration of the why behind that, and how I’m shifting my intentions and attention accordingly. It includes some personal goals, fun daydreams, ever-evolving thoughts on marriage/children, and luxuriating in the present rather than fearing the future.
It’s kind of disorganized and all over the place, which speaks to how I feel about this topic. Hoping to find my way by the end, but maybe not! Maybe it’ll just be a windy wilderness of ramblings!
Let’s wade in, I suppose.
What I didn’t quite mention to the 5 year question above is that when it was asked by my father, it then prompted the conversation about a proposal and marriage…
“Which one of you three do you think will get married first?,” he innocently lodged in my direction with a smirk and side eye, referring to the timeline for not just me, but also my two siblings.