Five Year Plan

Sometimes I wonder what my life will be like in a year.  In two years.  In five years.  In thirty years.  Mostly I wonder about that at times like this when I have a million other things I should be doing (not least of which is going to bed).

Where will I be next year?  Will I be in grad school getting my PhD?  Will I be working any job that pays the bills while I spend time figuring out what I really want my world to look like?  Will I be overseas?  Will I be in Des Moines?  Will I be happy?  Will I have my friends back in person to drink cheap wine with?  Who from the past two years of my life will stay a part of it?  Where is my life headed?  Because it is headed somewhere fast.  And I have to go with it.

Do I want to live abroad?  Spend my time volunteering in Sierra Leone?  Try to get a job with the embassy?  Move to Korea or China and immerse myself in sandlewood and jiaozi and thin mattresses?

Do I want to go to seminary, like I thought I would all those years ago?  I still remember a smaller, younger me with dark heavy bangs and a sky-themed outfit rattling off my plans to be in love with communion and baptism and the all the other sacraments forevaaa.

Do I want to keep studying?  Will I take the chance on another post-graduate degree?  Will I be given the opportunity?  What will it lead to?  And where will it be?  Do I head back to the small, dusty, burnt-orange couches of the social science halls?  To the comfort of a small cohort, a personal touch?  Or do I move toward the modern buildings?  The glassy atriums and colloquiums and research presentations?  Do I network or do I teach?  Do I even have a choice?

What will my future bring me?  And how do I start preparing?  Who am I going to be?  Or, rather, what form will the me thats always been take under a new direction?

Maybe, more importantly, what does my present look like?  What do I do now?  I’ve heard that I’m not supposed to worry about tomorrow.


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