7.5 - The Five-Year Plan

A couple days ago, I called the family together for one of my famous family meetings. It was, as intended, a short family meeting. I simply wanted to introduce a topic so they could begin to ponder it. I plan to revisit the topic in a few days after everyone has had a chance to mull it over.

The outcome was not exactly what I had hoped for.

The topic was simple enough: a five-year plan.

I simply asked each one to think about where they expected to be in five years so we could work together as a family to get everyone to where they wanted to be—physically, socially, spiritually, educationally... all that.

I thought it was pretty straightforward. My daughter will be 21, probably out of college and just getting into a career. My son will be 18, hopefully mid-way through his first year of college. My wife, I expect, will be doing largely what she is doing now—writing some, teaching some, wondering if whatever she is doing is really what she wants to be doing—that sort of thing, and I figure she'll pick up some new activities, like begging for grandchildren (until she realizes that it would make her a grandmother, then she'll be torn).

I expected my kids to realize that maybe they should start making some changes now to help them reach their goals—or maybe what they really need are some goals. I expected my wife to start thinking about her personal dreams so that maybe we can start to work on making them a reality.

As for me, I had already started thinking about it. My five-year plan involves a significant chunk of land and maybe a garage with a loft area (to make weekend trips to "the property" kind of like camping without fighting weather or dealing with setting up tents) and a few motorcycles. Maybe a cool project or two. A big garden.

Unfortunately for me, I also mentioned some other things, like the coming recession, the falling dollar, hoarding silver, electric cars, and getting off the grid. I think I also said something about windmills.

After that it wasn't pretty. The aftermath was a combination of mocking and depression: "Oh, no, you're not one of those people, are you?" "What will I do without my babies?" "I don't know what I want to do with my life!" "Are you going to start stockpiling weapons, too?" "I have no skills." "This makes me rethink everything I'm doing."

Yikes. In the few days since this event, the mocking has subsided a bit, but the depression has lingered a bit as well. I suppose some good has come of postulating a question. It seems that my daughter has embraced the culinary arts, while my son may be going the music route.

My wife continues her quest for the perfect direction, but has now peppered it with musings regarding new children to call her own, apparently aware and concerned by the grandma angle, but no less fearful of life without kids.

I don't know if we'll ever get back to the second half of that conversation. I just don't know if I can subject myself to it again. In any case, it was educational, and it certainly made them think.

I suppose what I've learned most is that it's best to think about the future quietly and alone.