A few weeks ago, I was grumbling about something. I don’t remember what it was. Something was coming up and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I declared, “I’m going to hate it, I’m going to be miserable.”

I caught myself making this dire pronouncement, recognized it for what it was, and tried to lighten it up with a bit of self-mockery: “That’ll be my payback. I’ll show Life who’s boss. I’ll take revenge on my future by suffering in anticipation of it, starting right now!”

• The idea of revenge on or for something that hasn’t happened yet is totally convoluted. It’s out of order.

• It’s also hostile.  It may feel like being in action, like planning and foresight.  But, actually, it just presumes and creates a premature and unnecessary relationship of opposition to all the imaginable worlds yet to emerge.

• Which ends up being preemptively self-defeating. It chooses unhappiness in advance. And not just unhappiness down the road when there may or may not be a real reason for it, but unhappiness right now. Why wait for dissatisfaction when we can claim it on demand?

Preposterous, right? But, actually, I believe we do this all the time. Worried about something that we expect might be negative, we prepare ourselves for it by feeling wretched in advance.

Remembering it now, I think that what I was complaining about was Daylight Savings Time. Because I don’t always sleep well, the loss of a precious hour of sleep can be hard for me. So, fine, maybe it’s a legitimate concern, and maybe it’s something to plan for in terms of how to get to bed earlier, or to make time for a nap the next day, or whatever.

What definitely wasn’t the most strategic or effective approach to my anticipated need for more rest was filling myself with dread, anxiety, and fury two weeks beforehand.

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My working title for this talk was “Taking Revenge on My Future,” because the ridiculousness of that idea made me laugh. My second thought was that it might not be a laughing matter.

I mean, it’s one thing when I’m getting worked up about future stuff with small stakes — a single night without enough sleep, an irritating obligation, an unfinished item on my to-do list. It’s less funny when the things I’m worried about are meaningful and really do require serious attention and intention — important relationships, health issues, money concerns, how to engage in the world with all its troubles. And then we can add to that all the stuff that absolutely affects us but is largely beyond our control — the march of time, mortality, structural imbalances, other people’s choices, complicated conditions that include all eight billion of us.

In any case, I suggest that anticipatory misery is never helpful. Even when it’s rational. Even if we can argue for and justify a preemptive strike on future happiness. Why would we?

Still, I thought a more positive title was called for. Hopefully something that offers both a positive approach to the future as well as a strong place to stand in the present.

“All the way to heaven is heaven,” said either St. Catherine of Siena in the 14th century, or St. Teresa of Avila in the 16th century.

Maybe both of them said it. It’s worth repeating. All the way to heaven is heaven.

“Heaven,” however we name our good — peace, harmony, love, joy, fulfillment, wholeness — must to some extent be right now, or else it’s never.  The future, always, is pure imagination, an expanse of possibility.  Living into this future, actualizing upcoming experiences in time and space, emerges largely out of how we stand in this present. It’s forever now.  Thus, our future is always being made up out of what we stand for, who we declare ourselves to be, and how we feel about life right now.  The idea is that creating an empowering context for ourselves in the present naturally leads to more positive outcomes for the future.

Sometimes this means a deliberate practice of being “in the now,” giving ourselves fully to this moment, finding gratitude and joy, without getting sucked ahead of ourselves into something we might be anxious about. Of course, it’s also perfectly fine to think about the future. One of the ways we create is by looking forward to our goals, to resolutions, to all the happily-ever-afters for which we yearn. So we can plan, and pray, and participate with purpose. The thing is, though: if our present doesn’t align with the destination we desire, then we’ve already set ourselves off-course.

If the present is always a wretched state from which we hope to escape, then we’re likely to perpetuate more such dissatisfaction going forward. Likewise, if we envision the future in a fearful way, we tend to spoil this moment, right now, which otherwise could contain infinite joy.

The future creates the present, and vice versa, ad infinitum.  Let’s choose wisely.

I can’t wait to be with you this Sunday, March 23. Looking forward to it, with hope and expectation, helps to make this very moment, right now, pretty darned delightful! I’m especially excited to welcome our musical guests, Jared Israel Putnam and Raychael Stine. See you soon, loved ones. XO, Drew

©2025 Drew Groves