Tattoos, Triathlons and Tango Lessons

What do these things have in common: hiking the Applachian Trail, moving to an island, getting a tattoo, training for a triathlon or marathon or long-distance bike ride, taking tango or salsa or drum or guitar lessons, hiring a fashion consultant or personal trainer, taking a year - or more! - off work to travel, buying a boat or motorcycle or sportscar or RV, finding religion or meditation or yoga, going back to school, joining a choir, donning a kilt and tossing cabers in Scottish Highland games, and starting a blog?

They are all somebody's answer to the question: What's next?

We spend our lives looking forward to what's ahead. My son just turned four and he already wants to know when he'll be five. As a child I couldn't wait for my next birthday - oh, how I longed to be one year older. When I was excitedly looking forward to turning 13, my father told me that I should never say that I can't wait for something, because I'm just wishing the time away between now and the thing I can't wait for. And that in-between time is passing either way, so I might as well enjoy it as it goes.

Even when we aren't giddily squealing "I can't wait," we still measure our lives by milestones. Whether it's getting our driver's license, graduating from high school, going to college, getting one degree or another, traveling abroad, starting and advancing a career, buying a home, getting married or having children, there is an underlying awareness of what's next.

But what happens when we reach the end of our personal list of milestones? Or what if one of our milestones is on hold or seems unreachable?

What's next?

We find something that makes us feel alive or sexy or strong. We find a goal we can strive toward. We've been students and workers, we've been travelers. We may be spouses and/or a parents. But is that everything?

Personally, as a parent, I need more in my future than my children's milestones. I want to have something to look forward to beyond my son getting his driver's license or my daughter's first date. (Please excuse me for just a moment while I pick myself up from the floor after briefly visualizing those two milestones.)

So, I ask, what's next for me?

Not having an answer to "what's next?" brings my own mortality uncomfortably to mind. Retirement sounds wonderful and all, but I would really prefer to have something on my milestone list between now and snowbirding in Arizona or Mexico.

So I'm looking through the local event calendar for biking and running events to train for this summer. I'm pricing sailboats. I saw a personal trainer yesterday to set up a strength-training routine. And yes, I started a blog.

But if my dad was right - and I think he was - then I also need to appreciate this very moment that I'm living now. Sure, there's more out there, and I'm excited to continue to create new milestones. But it's also valuable to slow down and acknowledge the life we've created and the people we've become. Then maybe we can settle into ourselves a little and enjoy where we are. After all, this - right now - is what's really next.