Meditations for Mortals - week one, day seven
Meditations for Mortals (by Oliver Burkeman): A 4 week/28 day series with dailyish posts about the book
Week one - facing the facts of finitude
DAY SEVEN
Let the future be the future
On crossing bridges when you come to them
On day six, Burkeman reflects on the phrase we’ve all heard or said countless times: “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Even without any specific context, the phrase alone gives me anxiety.
What will the bridge look like?
How will I cross it?
What if it’s closed? Or opens while I’m on it?
Or any number of other questions that our worrying minds love to ask.
For me, the big takeaway from this chapter is the idea that we do have the inner resources, ability and strength to manage any future bridge.
Burkeman shares a quote from emperor Marcus Aurelius that I love:
Never let the future disturb you. You’ll meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.
He adds:
…the worrier is so terrified that he might not be able to rely on his inner resources, later… when they reach a bridge that needs crossing…(they) make superhuman efforts to bring the future under control right now. (They) should devote less energy to manipulating the future, and have more faith in (their) capacity to handle things once the challenge actually arrives. If it arrives, that is….
Yesterday, I gave a performance at a retirement home with my son, Luca, a wonderful pianist. Any performance is one that requires planning and prep (and, yes, a little worry). But I’ve found that combining planning with just the right amount of worry usually leads to a successful performance.
Wondering a bit about the bridge — but also practicing thoughtfully and organizing well — helps ensure that the bridge is less slippery, icy, or overwhelming to cross. That doesn’t mean I don’t stress about it (on the contrary!), but I’ve learned to rely on my inner resources: ability as an artist, my preparation strategies, and understanding of what works for me in preparing for such experiences.
(I’ve also had a lot of ups and downs as a performer — sometimes the bridge was really slippery —but I’ve tried to learn from those moments. That learning, I believe, helps build resilience for future bridges.)
Burkeman ends the chapter with this:
The fact that you can’t cross bridges before you come to them is liable to seem dispiriting, as it leaves us with no option but to keep trudging vulnerably into the fog, trying not to think about sinkholes. But it contains a hidden gift…your job is always simply to do what Carl Jung calls ‘the next and most necessary thing’ as best as you can…
So yes, planning is important. But also: living in the moment. Enjoying it. Knowing ourselves.
Trusting that we’ll know what to do — as best as we can — when the time comes.
Because really, that’s all we can do.
And maybe it helps to keep Marcus Aurelius’s words close by:
Never let the future disturb you. You’ll meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.
Thoughts:
How can you be more in the moment today — to help yourself with future bridges that may come?