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We are contemplative creatures. 

And we love contemplating about the future the most. I believe its uncertainty and mystery is what draws us to dedicate so much of our thought to it. Sometimes it is exciting – will we finally have flying cars? Will we live on Mars? – but sometimes it is terrifying too. 

As someone who is just about to get started on life, thinking about the future, my future, can be quite daunting. 

I used to think a lot about Sylvia Plath’s fig tree analogy. The first half always excites me because I am promised a future full of opportunities: I can be whatever I want, have whatever I want, live wherever I want, and I have certainly dreamt of these different iterations of my future from time to time. 

But the second paragraph is sure to remind me that too much contemplation could also give us cold feet.  

“I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

I think I’m beginning to have cold feet not because I’m paralysed by my indecisions but because I’m scared that, what if the one fig that I really, really want falls prematurely to the ground before I could stretch my arms far enough to grab it.

In other words, what if the one thing I’ve been dreaming of and working so hard for, I don’t get? What then? Do I continue to sit under this fig tree and contemplate some more or shall I mourn the loss of that sweet, purple fig? 

I wonder sometimes if any of my classmates share my fear and Sylvia’s musings of the future. Everyone seems to have it figured out, though: graduate law school, get admitted to the Bar, practice law. But things do not appear as linear for me, especially as I decide to deviate from the traditional route. 

If only I could rationalise my thoughts, I think this could be just as simple for me too. 

So, here is an attempt at that: I cannot see the future, nor could I predict it, so I should just take the leap anyway. What matters is that I’m trying, yes? That I’m climbing and stretching for that fig.