Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

I would remember my coursemate's wry sense of humor, especially the moment when he saw me reading a blog. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? He saw himself in New York City, with a literary career that was about to take off. He was living with his not-so-poor girlfriend, and the blog would remind him of his embarrassment (of reading it). It was hard to tell if he was really serious about authorship. Then again, he might have considered other career options. There was nothing wrong about it, but the English Department would give a wrong impression to other students (from other departments).

I passed by the English Department five years later. I was a translator, and I thought of going there for old time's sake. I never expected to meet my coursemate, who happened to go there for the same reason. He reminded me of Xavier Comella, a serious gentleman in a novel I read last summer. I couldn't recall the title, as I brought the book during a holiday in Lisbon. (I enjoyed sightseeing, so it was pretty obvious that I couldn't remember the details of the book.) Xavier was a lucky fellow, whose father's inheritance gave him the opportunity to devote a lifetime in pursuing his literary aspirations. But he was lacking in courage. (He kept on changing minds if he ever wanted his writings to be published, often telling his acquaintances that he was nearly done.) He would cite melancholy, which individuals with too much privilege seemed to have. I may be resorting to generalization, which could be farther from the truth, but my (former) coursemate reminded me of Xavier. He gave vague responses to my inquiries, so it was hard to tell what happened to him during the last five years. Perhaps he was embarrassed to tell me he didn't have a job.

It would be no different from ten years, which made me wonder how I saw myself back then. I was a cautious student, without high expectations. And receiving my degree was my primary goal. There were no career options, not a short list of goals in five or ten years. How I wished I made a leap of faith. Let me enumerate it:

There was nothing wrong about having high hopes. I wasn't too late for thinking of big plans. In fact, I was serious about pursuing authorship. I haven't thought about a graduate degree, if an academic career would appeal to me. These things didn't come to mind when I was a student. I couldn't tell if I thought too much about the coursework, but I should've talked about it (with my tutor) back then. Maybe I was undecided.

It was important to think of what you would become. I learned about visualization during my second year (in the English Department). After a year of procrastinating on writing my assignments and reading books, I thought I needed more. How about thinking about finishing the paper ahead of the deadline? How about reading during those idle moments? Doing would be another thing, but this was a slight problem in the beginning. It wasn't hard to guess what would happen next.

Try until you succeed. Let me put it in another way. Experience would be my best teacher.

My meeting with my (former) coursemate was brief. We exchanged contact details, but we haven't kept in touch. I was hesitant to hit him up, but I believed we would cross path in five years or less.