Planning for later life doesn’t have to involve a crystal ball

How often do you think about what your life might look like in 40 years' time? Personally, not all that often. 

Even though I tend to overthink things and drift into daydreams (just last week I wondered what would happen if we all woke with the ability to fly), I don't usually think about what ageing looks like for me. And that’s even though I've been working at Ageing Better for almost two years – that’s nearly 3,000 hours I've spent thinking about other people's later lives, but not my own. 

Strangely though, my curiosity towards what happens after I'll die is something that I do find myself thinking about. I can stay awake at night wondering what's worse, the prospect of eternity or nothingness. Somehow, I've managed to go from thinking about humans flying and tomorrow's lunch straight to the afterlife – without thinking about my later years at all.

I don't even think about marriage or having children, so why would I be thinking about a stage in life where my kids have their own children?  

It's probably because it's so far away and elusive that the idea of me being in my 60s feels so abstract to 23-year-old me. 

Even imagining a 30-year-old me is quite alien. I wonder if I'll still be at Ageing Better in seven years' time. Or if I’ll have finally gained the ability to grow a beard. I guess if that's when I might be buying a house, I’d better save a tonne of money now and cut down on the avocados.

It's not a very long period of time, but I still don't feel like I'll have much in common with the future, possibly bearded me. I imagine much would have changed, both physically and mentally, so it doesn't seem right that I'd fully commit to associating myself with him. But should I? Should I be thinking about his interests, what he values, what his needs might be?

I also don't want to be one of those sluggish, heavily bearded, beer-bellied 30-year-olds, so I better reduce my sugar intake and get into a habit of staying healthy.  

Those are all reasonable and attainable measures of planning, right? Even if I can't envision what my life will look like in seven years' time, it doesn't mean that I can't put steps into place to help older me out.

After all, I do appreciate 16-year-old me's efforts at school, even if I don't remember much of him or feel fond towards his obsession of wanting to be taller – a bit similar to how I now feel about beards. 

If I can look out and plan for 30-year-old me then maybe I can kill two birds with one stone and do the same for the version of me in my 60s. Chances are, the things that matter to me at 30 aren't divorced from what I'll care about aged 60. Good health is always appreciated, being financially secure never hurts and maintaining a quality network of friends, family and social connections is timeless.  

I may not know what my life will look like in seven years' time, let alone 40, and I definitely can't predict how much society will help me age well. But these uncertainties ultimately don't matter, because I know that preserving what's good now will mean a better future. 

This article is part of our series on planning and preparing for later life.

Find out more about our event A message to myself: planning and preparing for later life.