Future Orientation

I am laying in bed, hand on my belly.  Judah is kicking me, over and over again.  And it's not that I want him to stop.  But I can't really get anything else done. His movement distracts me far too easily, and I'm more than content to just lay here and anticipate his next move.  I'm also exhausted.  Which may be why I don't want to move.

I am just worn out.

Practicum started today.

I was hired for a new job on Friday.

I got a call back for a second interview at a job I'd given up on.

I found a new apartment.  And I'm currently looking at the one I live in now, intimidated by the mess and hating this space.

Hating this space so much.

~

I spent the day in court for practicum.  I definitely picked the right profession; there was nothing about the client interaction, which made me regret the decision I made three years ago.  But I am tired now.  And my mind is spinning.  

Between this morning in court and an impromptu discussion in Starbucks last week, I am left considering the term "future oriented".  I explained this term to a co-worker the other day, specifically because of the issue, which arises when an individual is not oriented in such a way.  This manifests as impulsivity, lack of regard for consequences, repeat offenses, recidivism.  As a bystander, case manager, parent, volunteer, friend, we do not understand how someone could not understand the connection between their actions and the consequences of said actions.  How do you not know that "A" leads to "B" and equals up to "C"?  

Sometimes, something is lost.  The connection cannot be seen, perceived, or found.  In the time that lapses, in the transference of information.  Next year seems so far away, there's no way today could impact it.  Right?  

A child becomes future oriented early on.  Their parents usually have some concept of the orientation, and lead by example.  Early on, the consequences of actions and behaviors are acknowledged and obvious.  You don't turn in your homework, you get a "0".  You don't study for a test, you fail.  You don't save your money, you don't get the car.  You don't show up to work, you lose the job.  You break curfew, you are grounded.  You eat too much candy, you get sick.  Connections.  Consequences.  

That's real life right there.

And half of us never get it.

But the only way to learn is to experience.  To open your eyes and ears and listen.  If you're lucky, there are people around to help.  To help you connect the dots.  To help pull you out of the mess of consequences you've found yourself in.  If you're smart, you listen to those people.  You take their hand.  

~

This does not make me better than anyone, but for the most part I am incredibly future oriented.  Almost to a fault.  I tend to worry about things so far in the future, repercussions that may never even occur, that I fail to focus on today.  

Even as I stare at my apartment, I know I could fold all this damn laundry and ease up some of my stress.  But I'm so worried about how I'm going to pay rent this summer and which job I should choose and how I'm going to get all 360 hours of my practicum in, I just stare at the laundry... 

There are times when we voluntarily forget about consequences.  We get caught up in the moment, thinking only about now.  About gratification.  About getting what we want when we want it.  Numbing the pain.  Or distracting ourselves from our current circumstances.  

And then we wake up.  The money's gone, maybe.  Or maybe he is.  You've wasted a lot of time and a lot of energy on things, on people, on stuff that doesn't really matter.  Stuff you really don't care about.

It is, however, this same frame of mind, which can push you through the hardest of times.  Knowing that if you save the money now, you can pay for the apartment in August.  If you survive the crazy schedule now, you will graduate in December.  If you just say no now....

~

I am tired.  And right now I cannot see past today.

Which is why I'm not making any decisions today.

I will try and clean my apartment and wipe away the tears that are, of course, forming behind my eye lids.  Wishing he loved me.  And wishing I was still small enough to fit in his lap.  And wishing I didn't look so pregnant that I couldn't walk through the store without being stared at.  

I can't change those things today.  

So I'll just clean.  And keep my hand on my belly, waiting for my son to kick my hand.  Because you don't get much more future oriented than this... to be a mother, loving a child she's never held.  Only felt.  Doing all she can to take care of him and prepare a good life for him, without ever having seen his face.