I've Seen the Future...

And it is now.

Actually, I like the cliched line from all those fifties filmstrips: it's the kitchen of the tomorrow...TODAY! I just Skyped (may I use that as a verb?) with my friend Cat, and not only did we chat, but we used the video feature and saw each other! And not only did I see her, I got to see her three-week-old adorable baby! It was just like that scene at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey when the guy calls home and talks to his daughter via picture phone! It was the phone call of tomorrow (except there were no phones involved whatsoever)...TODAY!

When I was about 10 years old, I wondered what life would be like "in the year 2000." I'd correctly done the math to calculate that I would be 26 in May of 2000. I figured that medicine would have cancer licked by then. I thought we'd have more done in outer space (Challenger was still two years away at that point). I'm not talking colonies on the moon, but a more regular schedule to and from space. I wasn't good at swallowing aspirin, so I was hoping that we'd have hyposprays like on Star Trek. Would we have video phones? Natch. Those sleek-looking cars of the future? Of course. So I was surprised that in 2000, the "car of the future" seemed to be the SVU, not the wind-resistant sporty thing people always said it would be. 

But here we are in 2010. Suddenly, that sleek little car of the future idea seems to be making a comeback. Have you seen that tiny little Volkswagen that will sell for $600 in China? Check it out. Looks like the car of the future to me. And just today, I video chatted with my friend. I know Skype's been around for a while, but on my last computer I needed a separate web cam and it was a real pain in the ass. Now, I just click and the camera that's mounted into my computer does the rest. Feels like I'm there!

We haven't quite fixed cancer yet, have we? Sure, treatment is better and more promising, and we now have more options than ever before, but that miracle "cure for cancer" hasn't materialized the way my 10-year-old self assumed. There's no miracle cure for weight-loss either. Nothing stops Alzheimer's in its tracks. So it kinda feels like the challenges of humanity are still there in very recognizable, very physical ways. We still have to eat right and exercise to lose weight. We don't have mechanical kidneys on a shelf to implant into people on dialysis. And ah yes, Space, the final frontier. We have a space station, but it's not for people like you and me. Space is still for elite astronauts only. You know how I know? There's no mall up there. There's no Target, no Kohl's, no food court with Panda Express or Pizza Hut/Wing Street up there.  Clearly, it's not for the masses yet.

But I'm not totally disappointed in the future. I know for a fact I'd get very motion sick in Zero-G so I wouldn't have an appetite for hot wings up there anyway. And my 10-year-old self never foresaw the internet. That's changed my life a lot, and I never saw it coming. Now there are 3-D TVs on the way to the market! I totally called that in 1984! In the final tally, I suppose I'm pretty happy with the way the future has gone so far, but I still hold out hope for those miracle cures and awesome space stations. 

I'm not doing much to help the cause, I suppose. Maybe I should have become an M.D. instead of a Ph.D. Nah, I'm in the right business. So while those other minds are thinking of ways to make the future amazing for everyone (and make good on those predictions I'm still waiting for), I'm going to celebrate the present in a very old fashioned way: I'm going for a walk.  

The Hardest Thing You Ever Did

What was it?

Did you give birth to a child? Did you hold the hand of someone you love while they were dying? Did you sacrifice something incredibly precious? Did you walk away from something you knew was bad for you?

There are dark moments in life. Really difficult things. And not just life and death stuff either, but bad jobs that you have to keep because you need to eat every day, or months of floundering when you just can't seem to get your head out of your ass. Surviving cataclysmic moments or enduring long periods of something soul-degrading, either one can be The Hardest Thing (THT).

So think for a minute. Decide what it might be.

And now think about the effects that thing has had on your life, good and bad.

And now realize that you are still alive, and you either a) have enough free time to read this, or b) have a job (lucky you!) from which you are stealing time to read this. That "hardest thing" is likely behind you. You can look at it from here and say, "I did that." "I endured that." The funniest thing is you may have no idea HOW you got through it, but you did. THT sucked when it happened or when you did it, and you knew it sucked at that moment, but you survived anyway. You didn't just throw up your hands and say, "I give up." You probably didn't have much of a choice anyway. So you shut up and you forged ahead and you came out the other side.

THT is a powerful thing. It's probably not a good memory, but it pays every once in a while to look at it. Why? Because it shows what you are made of. It shows you are tougher than you thought you were. It shows you have more energy than you thought you did. More charm. More guts. More resourcefulness. It can help you get through a bad day or a bad week by reminding you of what a badass you really are. It can shrink today's challenges down to nothing. Hell, if I did THT, I can certainly handle today's presentation. Folks say life is made up of the little things--and THT was certainly a BIG thing, but remembering THT can help you navigate the little things with ease. After all, car trouble, overtime, and bad weather are nothing compared to THT. Annoying, yes. Soul-shattering? Probably not.

So when it appears that life is acting like a spoiled brat, look back over your shoulder for a minute and take 60 seconds to look at The Hardest Thing You Ever Did. Then, with renewed energy, turn your face to the future and press on.