I recently stumbled upon a video about imagining yourself ten years from now — eyes closed, deep in the space of imagination — picturing that version of you as the complete opposite of your ideal self. A person who procrastinates on everything, works a job they hate, is broke, and regrets every choice made up to that moment. Then, in the exercise, that future self opens their phone's gallery and sees photos from ten years prior. A flood of "what ifs" rushes in — if only I had pursued this, if only I had the courage then. Eyes open. The camera is staring right back.
It felt like traveling to the future — witnessing the life that remains if nothing changes — and then snapping back to the present, where the course can still be altered.
This only took 48 seconds. And its aftermath has profoundly impacted the present me, as of writing this reflection. Something clicked — an immense feeling, difficult to put into words. Perhaps try this practice for 48 seconds and you may arrive at a similar place. The feeling of I know what I must do — a compass suddenly pointing in the right direction toward a greater purpose. It felt like a cheat code, but the payoff was consciously meaningful. It was, perhaps, a mirror of the self — looking back upon the perspective of our future selves.
Of course, there are arguments about predestination. If our future and fate are already locked, why bother living? I would argue that is not the most important question right now. Destiny versus free will — the Matrix series addresses this directly. In Neo's conversation with the Oracle, she offers him a piece of candy, and with it, the debate on free will begins. Neo asks, "Do you already know if I'm going to take it?" She says yes. Neo argues he has no real choice. Her response has stayed with me ever since. The Oracle tells him: "Because you didn't come here to make the choice. You've already made it. You're here to understand why you made it."
The understanding of the why is everything.
Looking back from that perspective reveals more of what is and was possible. It opens up possibility rather than closing it down — it does not give you permission to stop, but reason to continue. The why is, philosophically, one of the most profound words in any language. It sets off a domino effect — why did I do this? And why that? And why beneath that?
Understanding the why is fulfilling in itself. Take someone who solves a mathematical problem on a board in class — and something ignites. That single formula unlocks an interest in the subject, which compounds over years into a profession, a calling, a life's direction. They woke something innate within themselves. They came to understand why they were doing it — within and beyond the classroom. That became their meaning. How magnificent that is. That is the beauty of life.
Looking back and through is one of the greatest capabilities we possess. It allows us to imagine what could be and know the action of what should be. We cannot escape tribulation — as Jordan B. Peterson said, "The only way out is through." By delving into the unknown, we come to understand the why, and make that uncharted territory our own. We are therefore conquerors — not of others, but of ourselves. We conquer not merely to survive, but to live as fully and meaningfully as we can. There will be necessary sacrifices. Nonetheless, the payoff is something worth being proud of.
Consider the analogy of climbing to a rooftop. Without a ladder, you cannot reach the top. The ladder is the path. Climbing it, rung by rung, is the perseverance toward the goal. And when the top is reached, there is something profound waiting — a sense of accomplishment, of meaning. This can be actualized in our own lives. The goal without the path is hollow. The path without a goal has no destination. Both require each other. And both begin within us — with our hands, our curiosity, our willingness to explore what we truly want from life. I myself have vowed never to disappoint my future self. That is my anchor in the present.
The path ahead may be rough. As it should be — the lesson is in the process, more specifically through trial and error. Recognize that every difficulty is another realization of what you are capable of becoming. Embrace what lies ahead with courage, knowing that whatever it is, you must move forward. The timelines are connected — past, present, and future. Each holds its own purpose. What matters is how you respond to what is.