One Day, Five Years From Now

Music: Ask Me How I Am by Snow Patrol

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice—

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

A friend asked me, "Where do you see yourself five years from now?"

The easiest answer is "I'll be five years older," but that's dry humor at its best, and probably not the most appropriate response to a serious (I think) question.

I guess I haven’t really thought about it a lot, which could either mean that a) I’ve been too busy with the present to pay attention to the future, or b) I don’t particularly care. Either reason is sad, and a little irresponsible, too.

And so, it got me thinking (which eventually led to a headache, but that’s a story for another day). My best friend Potch and used to talk about going into business—a café with a bookshoppe, or a bookshoppe with a café, or even without the café, really, just the bookshoppe will do—a couple of times. Except that we're both Literature majors, and although my mom is a superb businesswoman, I think I take after my dad more, and therefore will probably not be able to sustain the business without the help of people who know how to actually run it. But it's a thought that’s stayed in my mind for a while now, something I even discussed with my mom a few years back, and she’s supportive, really, so at least I’m sure we’ll have one regular customer?

And then I realize, I want to run a mini-library. No, seriously. For kids. Because although I'm technically bad with children, I want to give them youngsters a chance to experience the joys of reading while they’re still young. Especially in this day and age, when it’s so easy to be distracted with television, computer games, and the Internet. Because there’s a different kind of magic in holding an actual book and flipping through its pages, smelling the scent of paper and ink, that you can’t experience when reading an e-book using Kindle or an iPad (not that I’m against e-books, because I’m not). Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I’ve been hording children’s books and YA novels for the past, oh, say, seven years? Of course, a community library sounds cool and ambitious, but I will need a good spot (the rent has to be reasonable, of course), and people who share the same vision, more or less. And money. Maybe in a few years. Somewhere in Marikina, perhaps, near our church. Or in Pasig. Hmm.

And then something theater-related. I once had this thought, just a passing fancy, really, of setting up a community theater, or a small theater school, for kids. But then I have to take an MA on theater arts first, and I don’t think that’s happening in the near future. Well, my sister has a degree in Education, so I can bully her into handling the teaching/academic side of things. Or something. But I think this is a dream that I really would want to work on—to train kids, help them mold their skills not only in acting, but in different fields as well. Something that can help them later on in life. Oh, wouldn’t that be awesome?

But, I think, what I really want to do, wherever five years from now finds me, is to be able to give back to the Lord. Whether it be by providing the best service one can have in our bookshoppe/café, or by providing kids with books that inspire (or mentally scar them for life, although I sincerely hope this would not be the case), or by training children to better prepare themselves for whatever dream they wish to pursue (and hone their acting skills, to boot). If by doing these little things, I can give glory to God, well, wouldn’t that be the most amazing thing ever?

Well, we’ll see in five years’ time then J

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do—

determined to save

the only life you could save.

–“The Journey,” Mary Oliver