I often feel like the past summer was unfulfilling, lacking significant memories except for the trip to Pittstown Forest. With high gas prices and my aging truck, I reduced my outings. Work has been busy, and the tempting offer of the free Nature Bus to Thacher Park, offering a day for hiking and exploration, became hard to resist due to its flexible schedule. I’ve become such a frequent rider that people might assume I don’t even own a car, despite the fact that I can afford gas; my income exceeds that of three out of four Americans.

Simultaneously, I find myself increasingly pondering my future. What seemed clear a few years ago has become more uncertain as the future approaches. While I’m advancing in my career, I’m also saving and investing wisely while living frugally. It’s still surreal to acknowledge my title as Deputy Director and appreciate my spacious office. Even stranger is seeing my name and title listed online and in the agency phone book. In just over a month, I’ll mark 15 years with my company, not a lifetime but still a substantial amount of time. Looking ahead, twenty years doesn’t feel so distant. Although I might have reservations about certain aspects of my work, the financial progress I’m making towards a better future is undeniable.
Simultaneously, I’ve been immersing myself in YouTube lectures on the topic of “Finding Purpose in Life.” There’s no shortage of motivational speakers out there. Time seems to be slipping away rapidly, seasons passing by quickly and feeling insignificant. On one hand, I wish time would speed up to bolster my investments and savings, but on the other hand, I’m reminded of the things I’ve lost to the passage of time. The passing of my first-grade teacher, Ms. Holockey, from 32 years ago saddened me. She lived a long life, having been in her sixties when she taught me in the elementary school basement.

My dream of owning land in a state that upholds my second amendment rights is still alive. I envision a place that balances conservation and responsible use of farmland and forests, free from what I perceive as overzealous environmentalism. A place where I can have controlled fires, exercise my right to bear arms without stringent permits, ride ATVs, and raise livestock. Pigs, goats, chickens, even cattle. The allure of a simple life in off-grid cabins and tiny homes remains strong. No television or wired internet—much like my current lifestyle but in a rural setting. I’m saving towards this future and diligently studying real estate listings. Perhaps soon, I’ll journey to a location like the Ozarks to explore the possibilities. However, I sometimes find homesteading groups and YouTube channels overly idealistic.

It’s as if I’m certain about my aspirations, armed with financial targets and a plan for the 2030s. I continue to excel at work, investing extra time and money, while cutting unnecessary expenses. Dreaming is undeniably more enjoyable than dealing with the realities of farming—like shoveling manure or managing waste. I’m conscious that farm life is tough and demanding, not the same as the chores I did as a child. While I appreciate meat, butchering is a challenging and messy task. However, by doing it at home, I can avoid contributing to landfills or releasing toxic fumes from burning packaging. I sometimes envy those who lead genuine homesteading lives, dealing with the mud, maintaining trailers and sheds, and fashioning makeshift solar setups.

Tomorrow’s certainty is uncertain. Yet, dreams are free, and the foundation we build today opens doors for the future. The things we buy today are fleeting, but dreams endure, and investments grow. Amidst the changes in the world and the fading of the past, I hold onto hope and a strong chance of a better tomorrow. While I’m disheartened by the shifts happening around us, I acknowledge the potential for positive change.