First, scatter the seeds Here – wait, watch – see what takes root Then, walk fields of blooms b.m.
I have a question for you. I guess I also have a question for me. It’s probably a question we’ve all been asked in job interviews or during corporate wellness sessions, and one that, on a Cliché Scale of one-to-ten runs somewhere around an 8:
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
I know, I know. It’s a bit eye-rolly isn’t it? Because if the past few years have taught us anything it’s that this question is legitimately laughable. We have literally no idea what the next five weeks will bring, let alone five years.
And yet, there is a seed in this question. Or, more specifically, there are many seeds. And to ask ourselves the question and allow space for the answers is to scatter those seeds throughout our life and see what takes root.
A few years ago, during another period of lostness and hope, I asked myself to imagine my five-years-in-the-future life.
To be honest I don’t remember a lot of the details but knowing me I’m sure my answer was comprehensive and ridiculous. I would have built a delightful, fantastical future world full of adventure and clarity and boundless energy and relentless health and profound relationships and deep patience and effortless fashion and probably a farm and maybe an electric car and some goats and and and…
It certainly didn’t feature a global pandemic or shitty health or spending the better part of four months last year at my dad’s ICU bedside or any other number of less-than-desirable scenarios that have unfolded over the interim.
And yet that scattering of fanciful seeds did include some that took root and have grown into things. Big things. Important things. Things that feel right and have felt right from the moment their tender little green shoots poked above the soil.
Five Year Future Me liked herself. She took time every morning to care for herself - whether that was a little bit of yoga or journalling or meditation - she prioritised it because she knew her peace was important and made her a better mum-partner-writer-friend-sister-daughter. And, much to my genuine surprise, I also discovered that Five Year Future Me didn’t drink alcohol. Which, as a fan of red wine and scotch, surprised the hell out of me.
Instead of rushing to judgement though, I tried to just observe. And what I saw was a different version of myself, an evolved version of myself, and instead of seeing it as manifestation or wishful-thinking, I decided to trust her. I spent time watching her; how different she and I were and how the same, how she showed up in her day, in her life, in her values. And the more I watched her, the more I knew: she had her reasons. I knew the Five Year Future Me I was looking at had been built on five years of daily choices.
These days I don’t have goats or a farm or boundless energy, but I do prioritise care every morning. Sometimes it’s ten neck rolls while the coffee is brewing or three pages of stream-of-consciousness journalling or some other form of cranky self-care that annoys and fulfils me in equal parts. And I also haven’t drunk any booze for more than two years.
Turns out Five Year Future Me knew a thing or two.
I think there’s a couple of reasons why this exercise stuck with me while so many others haven’t.
I focused on the feel of it.
We are not in control of much. The economy, the choices of others, political machinations, even our own health to a certain extent. So much of our personal circumstance is impacted by outside influences. So instead of focusing on the look of Five Year Future Me, I tried to focus on how her life felt.
What rightness could I feel in that version of me? In her habits. Her choices. The way her values and priorities took shape in her day-to-day life. Where were the little pockets of truth in that vision?
I looked at my feet.
I knew by then that big changes are almost always made with small choices; the slow and faltering steps we take every day – even when they move us backwards or sideways or round in circles. So once I felt that future version of myself, once I trusted her, I put her out of my mind and looked for the first step.
Because we can look ahead five years (or six months or one week or two decades) to see where we’re going, but we need to look at our feet to see how we’ll get there.
I can’t find the original exercise (I guess it ended up wherever good ideas on the internet go to die when I forget to bookmark them), but I’ve been rolling this five-year question around in my head for the past few weeks again and have come up with a list that feels like a good starting point. When I look to myself in five years:
Who do I see?
What habits do I have?
What do I value? And how do I value them?
How do I feel about myself?
What do I do for joy? For work? For others? For myself?
How does all of this feel, deep in my bones?
I’m going to spend some time here, wondering and watching. Maybe I’ll make a list of what I see and feel. I’ll try not to build myself a ridiculously fantastical future world, but I can’t make any promises. (There may still be goats).
There will be clues in the answers, I know that much. And if you find yourself asking the same questions and finding handfuls of seeds among your own fanciful answers, scatter them around, see what takes root.
Here’s to you today, five years from now, and every day in between.
Much love,
Brooke xx
PS. My online shop is currently open for Christmas orders, but only for a very limited time. If you want to give a mate (or yourself 💚) a signed, personalised copy of Care, Slow or Destination Simple for Christmas, now is your chance to order.
International orders close Nov 23
Australian orders close Dec 2
I’m currently:
Wondering: whether spring will truly ever arrive and when I should plant my tomato seedlings out. Truth be told it’s probably too late but us gardeners are an optimistic bunch by nature so I’ll pretend there’s still hope for basketfuls of juicy tomatoes.
Watching: Snowflake Mountain (don’t judge me) and The White Lotus S2, but we go to bed so early these days that it’s taking us forever to get through any series. And I’m okay with that. Sleep is my current superpower!
Trying: to manage my energy.
Succeeding: sometimes.
Thinking: about this David Suzuki quote:
“The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it. If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity -- then we will treat each other with greater respect. Thus is the challenge, to look at the world from a different perspective.”
Finally:
Thank you for reading and supporting The Tortoise. If you know anyone you think might enjoy it, please feel free to share it. It’s another way you can support me and my work and I will bestow you with many good wishes and the honorary title of Big-Time Tortoise Pal xx
I've always looked at the 5 yr plan as a "when I" experience. When I move to this area then I'll make lot of friends. When I have a new house, I'll be happy. When I have lost weight I'll buy new cloths. When I .... Lately I have been trying to say to myself what is stopping you from feeling happy with what you have now - I guess this is practicing gratitude. So personally, I'm just trying to focus on the here and now and let the future take care of itself.
Also, when we were living in the country at 600 metres above sea level we always planted tomatoes 3 weeks after Melbourne Cup to avoid the frosts. Good luck with yours. :-)
It really is SO wonderful to be reading your posts again. Thank you for all that you share 🙏