In ten years, I’ll already be stepping onto the sixth floor of life.

I picture myself just a few months away from retirement, everything ready. My body healthy and strong. My mind carrying even more knowledge. My emotions at peace. I’ve forgiven, and I’ve asked for forgiveness where it was needed. I see myself with more gray hair—each strand making me a little more humble. Speaking less, listening more.

I imagine myself closing cycles here in the city, turning my eyes toward a quieter place where I can finally settle down. Surrounded by nature, by open fields.

My children with their careers established, wrestling with the chaos of their own young families, carrying the stress of their thirties. They visit me once a year, but we always stay close.

I still see my parents—older, more tired. I see my siblings, fighting for their own dreams and ventures. I see my family gathered in our warm end‑of‑year reunions, maybe with one or two children running through the house again.

I see my lifelong friends, older and more wrinkled. We’ve known each other for forty years. We still laugh at the same stories—memories lost in golden times.

And finally, I see myself holding the hand of someone I haven’t met yet. Making plans for the next twenty years – and beyond. Living new experiences with her, traveling to remote places.

At sixty, I see myself with the same energy I overflowed with at twenty—financially free, carrying the wisdom of countless successes and mistakes, grounded in my unshakable faith in God.

Beginning this new chapter with gratitude, optimism, and joy.