Mingo.Life

Nobody knows what the future holds.

That gets said a lot but, think about that phrase for one second. Nobody. Not one person on this planet can say with 100% certainty exactly what is going to happen tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year.

Life, by its very nature, is unpredictable. Apart from birth, death, and taxes, of course – the three horsemen of inevitability.

Recent events have forced some unpleasant truths onto my lap. At age 34, I’ve had more hospital wristbands than festival ones, and I’ve not even done anything heroic to earn them. I’m still dealing with that trigeminal issue, painfully messing up the right side of my head. I’m out of shape, out of energy, and I’m not myself. I’m on more medication than I’d like, and there’s the shadow of yet another surgery lurking in the wings.

Frankly, I’ve had enough.

Yes, I’m scared of death. We all are. It’s the most human thing about us. Now I’m not suggesting for one minute that I’m about to suddenly keel over on my way to Tesco. But, Father Time will eventually come and I don’t want to live a life of pain and fatigue, hobbling closer to an early grave, when I could be doing so much more with the time I’ve got.

“The road goes ever on, and on.”

So, I started fighting back. Nothing dramatic. Three workouts a week, active rest days, mobility work, stretching, weights, and just enough cardio to make my heart rate think it’s on a mild rollercoaster. I make sure I drink at least two litres of water a day. I meditate for ten minutes a day, I take my vitamins, pop a probiotic at lunch, and eat actual fruit and vegetables thanks to Emma’s gentle (and sometimes not-so-gentle) persuasion.

This isn’t a phase. This is me now refusing to age into a walking pharmacy. Poppy will always need me, quite possibly for longer than most children need their parents. Evelyn deserves to grow up with a dad who can actually keep up with her, and celebrate all the things she goes on to achieve. And my wife? Well, she deserves someone who’s strong when she’s not.

I owe it to them. To age with strength, and not just survive on prescriptions and waiting room magazines.

But, I don’t know what the future holds. For me, for my family, for my career, my home. Nobody does. And if you dwell on that too long, it really is anxiety inducing.

So, what do we do? Well, we make the best of today. Because tomorrow has it’s own plans for us.

I’ve got an MRI coming up for that debilitating condition in my head. Emma has some nerve wracking scans very soon, after a long period of illness. When, or if, will Poppy speak? Will Evelyn suddenly start walking this week? Will our extension ever happen, or will we just run out of money paying the planning people?

I can’t really control any of that.

What we can control is how we turn up today. How we react to life. We can start to notice the small wins. For me it’s a pain-free morning, a workout in the books, a meditation successfully achieved, a smile from a stranger, a moment of peace in the chaos.

The future might arrive with fireworks and flowers, or it might arrive with flat tyres and an invoice. But when it does, we’ll meet it with the strength we built on the quiet, ordinary days.

Marcus Aurelius said, “Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.”
Which is a profound way of saying, “Stop stressing about the future. You’ll handle it when it gets here, just like you’re handling today.”
[Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations, Book 7, Section 8]

So here’s your task, dear reader, tell me one small win from today. Even if it’s just making a lovely cup of tea.

Make that damn phone call you’ve been putting off. Send that text.

Drink the good coffee now, not when ‘things calm down a bit’.

Make a nice dinner.

Tell your family that you love them.

Wear those nice socks, on a Tuesday.

The future is a blank page. No instructions, no guarantees, just you, and a pen that’s stubbornly refusing to behave.