Ten Years? Let’s Not Tempt the Gods

Ten Years? Let’s Not Tempt the Gods

✍️Author’s Note
A decade after bold predictions and broken promises, this closing reflection looks at history’s irony. Progress tempts hubris; wisdom begins with humility before the unknown.

“Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.”

— Euripides

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Letters to the Prompt

The prompt asked a question that caught my attention: “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

Forgive my insolence, dear prompt, but this is not a question one should ask an elderly gentleman. At the tender age of 81, such a query might elicit an unseemly answer. Understandably, I don’t plan that far ahead—though I do hope to live another decade and intend to enjoy life as much as I can. With the passage of time comes a certain clarity: we are masters of nothing, and each new sunrise may well be our last.

Character influences happiness, and we all carry our contradictions. I am an old man with all the trappings of age—save for a lack of humor. A touch of mockery and cynicism, too, have remained faithful companions.

We are spectators of the human race, with the creeping understanding that nature has placed us all on trial. Sadly, our ignorance and self-interest seem destined to prevail, proving yet again that we are happier than we are wise.

Still, I strive to live at peace with myself. A life without books, classical music, and paintings would be a burden too heavy to bear. I do not speak here of friends—a rare commodity—but of agreeable acquaintances. Mine is a comfortable way of life, domestic inconveniences notwithstanding. As the days trickle by in idleness and leisure, I take things as they come, remaining active both physically and intellectually.

I don’t believe it’s unreasonable to suggest that with time comes understanding and, if we’re lucky, acceptance. Old age is a period of decline, one that demands adjustment. The body changes; cells slow their dance; physical aging outpaces the mental. In this regard, I have no complaints. Mornings are sacred: I drink coffee, listen to classical music, play chess, read the papers, avoid CNN, NBC, and the madness across the pond, write a few sentences for my blog, and take a walk in the woods.

Although my attitudes have remained essentially unchanged, I can’t help but conclude that society has become less agreeable. There is a loss of style, of grace—what we once called civility. On social media and beyond, a new orthodoxy dominates: whatever opinion a man holds, he demands others adopt the same. Dissent has become indecent.

This makes me reflect: on the road of life, we do both good things and not-so-good things. When we look in the mirror, we must accept this and move forward, seeking balance. A careless individualism has helped me with that, as has a long-standing skepticism toward religion and superstition. I have always preferred the triumph of reason over revelation.

Of course, even at 81—or at any age—when we depart, life always feels too short. This complicates our search for meaning. The relationship between knowledge and mortality is a riddle: we know what is born must die, and yet we chase permanence. Whether the soul survives or not remains unresolved, likely more a product of faith than fact.

And so, after these reflections on life, aging, and finality—another question begs an answer:
“Where does the prompt see itself in ten years, when the world of AI will have completely changed and the prompt will likely have retired?”

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📌 Blog Excerpt / Afterword
When prompted to answer, “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I did what any self-respecting octogenarian might: I laughed. This is not a manifesto, nor a eulogy. It’s just one man’s meandering answer to a question best left to the young—or the gods.

Netherlands, WJJH – 21.4. 2024