All things come to an end. I am both saddened and joyful at seeing the end of this year and the onset of the New Year.
Saddened because it means one less year to accomplish my goals and happy because, for me, it is a long and awkward week between Christmas and the New Year. I find myself losing patience in putting up with others; and what is even harder to admit, others are probably tired of putting up with me. I end the year in a sullen and surly mood. Perhaps that is something I should resolve to change in myself. Still, the end of year is at least a benchmark of time passed, not all of it productive. As I grow older I need to learn to accept the aging process and my failed ambitions, and weigh them against what I have accomplished. On balance, I think, the scales are tipped in my favour.
Resolutions do not play a big role in my life. Most of them have to do with some form of self-denial of personal pleasures. Stop doing some things and start doing other things. Pleasures enjoyed in excess become vices in nefarious ways. Stop drinking so much, stop eating so much junk food, stop being impatient. Start eating healthier, start exercising more. Less of this and more of that.
It would seem that with each successive year I am always trying to improve on myself. Following this formula, by the time I reach old age I should be as near to perfect as a guy can get. Instead, I feel as if I am degenerating each year, regressing as opposed to progressing toward this perfect nirvana. The problem with self-improvement is that we are never satisfied with ourselves the way we are. At this stage of my life, I should be putting the finishing touches on myself, not making major renovations. At some stage in life we have to stop trying to change into a different person, call a halt to any further improvements and, accept our current selves as our future selves, the finished product. No more future modifications. Still, one never knows what the future holds.
The future is so uncertain that anybody who can hold a pen can fashion a future according to his whims. Anybody can write about things in the future, but whether they are right is seldom questioned. We hear about those sayers who once in a while luck out and predict some future event. In 1970, Alvin Toffler wrote an intriguing book called Future Shock which showed how change affects society. Seldom do we hear any more of those predictions that fell by the wayside.
The title of this article, Future Shlock is not a misprint. If I were to compile a book of erroneous prophecies, it would be thick enough to use as a chair and heavy enough to have value only as a bookend.It would seem a mad quirk of human nature that we are always trying to anticipate the future. At this time of year I find myself reflecting on the past and ruminating about the future. I have come to the conclusion that predicting the future is a foolish game. At best, it is future-less exercise.
Still, I persist in this ruse of self-deception and, by admission, that makes me a fool. Wise men have more to learn from fools than fools can learn from wise men.
On Radio, TV or in the printed media, there appears to be no shortage of prognosticators, predictors, prophesiers and various other soothsayers with portentous claims of impending events. One should not confuse such pseudo-oracle stutterings with wise and authoritative opinions. It would seem harmless and entertaining to listen to all these prophecies, providing we do not pay them much attention or attach any special credence; unless of course it fits with our view of the world. The only opinion we value is usually our own or one that fits our own; a kind of twin-pinion.
Not satisfied with making claims for the end of this year, some prognosticators are already gaping over the edge of the century into the chasm of the third millennium. From deep within the catacombs of their minds they extract Nuggets of prophetic insight with mystic sparkle. These gold-diggers of portent stake out there claims with unchallenged assertion. But even the dumbest geologist knows that most prospective gold-claims contain more pyrite than nuggets of valuable ore. The luster of Fools Gold is a tantalizing feature, but it portends nothing of consequence, similar to the tarnished prophetic indications of some futurists.
Some of these prophets look in the rear-view mirror of history, analyzing the past and using it to forecast the future. It must be tough to be that smart. Looking back to see where we have been, or how far we have come is fine; but caution is required in using the past to determine how far we have yet to go. Using 2006 stock market trends, one might predict the strong performance seen in 2007. Using the 2007 trends to anticipate 2008 would have been grossly misleading. What goes up must come down? Nobody predicted at the end of 2008 that we would see low Interest Rates. By 2010 they were even lower. What goes down must come up.
Others ponder the trends of today and extrapolate linearly into the future. Sometimes these prophets claim to have hit the mark but, when we examine their vague and indefinite targets, it is difficult in hindsight to see how they could possibly miss. If the prediction is general enough, it can be construed in hindsight to hit the mark, especially if a shotgun is used. Most times, their target was so large and fuzzy that a hit can almost always be interpreted. It seems to escape their attention that most of the world’s major events in the past 10 years have gone unpredicted. Nobody predicted the fall of the Berlin Wall, the rise of Democracy in the USSR, the Iraq War, the mutation of viruses that would render our antibiotics impotent, the onslaught of AIDS, the market crash of 2008. It seems that unseen chance and circumstance appear to have as important a role as the orderly unfolding of the world.
Catastrophe and chaos appear to upset the best-laid plans of control freaks who multi-task their way through life, without living.
Still others, not content to confine their thoughts to global influences, delve into the Universe, and infer from the position of the stars, moon, and planets how human affairs and global events will unfold. Or that the world will end in 2012. You would not be remiss in thinking that such prophetic and cosmic insights are out of this world. They are. Such nebulous and chimerical discourse without discernment can be misleading, especially when some minds are easily molded by obscure and ambiguous arguments. Anything stated obscurely enough can always be resurrected and inferred to have some meaning that supports an outcome viewed from the favourable angle of posterity. From the vague images of a future they foretell, it is easy, in posterity, to concoct a mirage of the vision they thought they saw.
Sure, I believe that things happen, stuff always happens. Sometimes stinky stuff happens. To believe that whatever happens is preordained to happen puts more faith in the alignment of astral bodies and interstellar attractions than I can accept.
I like to keep my world simple. Whatever happens, happens. Not in a fatalistic way though. I do believe that we have control over our destiny, but the fickle finger of fate sometimes leaves the door ajar, just enough to allow Chance to insert her foot and shoulder us aside with vile and wiley intent. What will be, will be.
If I do not have the wisdom and discipline to bring new things to happen to me this year, at least give me the strength and humor to take what it brings. Blinded by an uncertain future, I do not want to lose sight of what I already have. Futurism is for futurists. For me, it is trouble enough to live in the present.
Paul Hemingson is a freelance writer who lives near Spruce View. His column appears every other week in LIFE. Contact him at paulhemi@telusplanet.net or www.paulhemingson.ca