a letter from the future
Something unexpected arrived in the mail today—a letter addressed to me in a stilted hand.
The handwritten address on the crisp envelope bore the telltale marks of haste in its swiftly scratched characters. And while I could not immediately place their author, the hand nevertheless seemed uncannily familiar.
Eager to discover the letter’s contents, I tore open the envelope with all the care and precision of a toddler on Christmas. Shreds of paper fell to the floor like so much snow. When all was said and done, I was left with a one-page letter on cream-coloured cardstock, whose entire surface was covered in that vaguely familiar scrawl.
As my eyes began to greedily drink in the words, gulping them down in great draughts, I was carried along to a truth too preposterous to reject…
Dear Cody,
My young friend,
Hey dude,
(Wait—do we still say “dude” in your time? Ach! Who cares—I shouldn’t dither; these newly invented time travel missives are limited, after all. I mean, you wouldn’t believe the amount of bandwidth it takes to send a physical letter fifty years into the past! No, really, you wouldn’t—they haven’t even invented the right kind of bytes yet.)
Greetings from the year 2074!
Now, do you think that feels more surreal for me to write or for you to read?
Anyway, kiddo, I’m writing to you today with some words of wisdom. I trust you’ll put them to good use. I know you’ve managed to win a few victories—but take it from me: there’s no man on the face of the earth that’s in a position to turn down good advice. So pay attention.
Mind your shoulders. You don’t have to lean forward and anticipate the next moment before it arrives. See… that’s the thing about the next moment… it comes to you! So try and remember to relax. You’re going to die; don’t take it all so damn seriously. What is it Fat Joe said when we were kids?—oh, right: lean back.
Pay careful attention to whatever you decide is important (and attend to it).
Don’t forget to enjoy the ride. Writing is fun, remember? You enjoy this thing you’re doing, that you’ve devoted so much of your life to. Tackling the blank page brings you genuine joy and contentment…. so maybe you should try acting like it every once and awhile? Learn to find pleasure in the process. Remember: it’s not about what you’ve written—but what you’re writing.
Keep going. Even when you don’t feel your best. And especially when you think that you can’t. Bullshit! You can. So quit bitching, don’t give up, and don’t get down on yourself. There are enough people out there who will do that for you. And you wouldn’t want to deprive them of their ill-fated table scraps, now would you?
Tune out the voice of Resistance. I know, I know—easier said than done. But this is the big one, kiddo. If you can learn to master your fear, you will reach heights you haven’t even dared to dream of before. Locate your Inner Censor and silence it’s pernicious, conniving voice as best you can. The world can already see that you’re a fool, so what’s left to be afraid of?
Show them your wings. They won’t hate you for it, as you’ve always feared. No—in fact, they’ll actually lift you up even higher.
Do not allow yourself to be swallowed by your resentment. I know you’ve been hurt and I know you hurt still. And it’s important to acknowledge and heal those wounds. But do you want to know a little secret? Life never stops hurting. And that’s okay! There’s an almost transcendent beauty in recognizing that fact, and an almost inplaccable courage to be found in accepting it. So find your north star and remain true. Like Jonah, the only way to escape the belly of this particular fish is to realign yourself with the Source’s will for you.
Grow your craft, always. The results will flow of their own accord. Don’t stress the quality of your work—just keep up your end of the bargain and leave the Source to its business. Control what you can control and leave the rest up to the Fates (they’ve been at this a long time, kid—they’ll figure it out).
Set incremental goals. Do your very best, here, in this moment. And eschew all things that seek to drag you away from it.
Don’t be afraid to experiment. This has served you well in the past but you need to keep striving! Don’t let your fear of the unknown (and of failure!) sap your courage for adventure. No settling. And no complacency.
As best you can, let go of your fears, doubts, and expectations. Choose to accept the blessing of faith, and its byproducts: peace and equanimity.
Stay humble. Say your prayer and play your role, that’s your job. Nothing more, nothing less.
Always pet the kitties. (Yes, even when you’re working.)
You can’t save everyone. (And that’s okay.)
You didn’t get here alone (and you won’t do anything else alone, either). Never forget to recognize the immense contributions of others, as well as the beneficent uplift you have received from your supporters. Without them, you could not be. Honour and love them as yourself (and, failing that, to the very best of your meagre abilities).
Sing, dance, and laugh more. In fact, as much as possible!
Oh!—and one last thing; never, ever, forget…
It’s all about love, baby!
Okay, it looks like I’m running out of page—and just as well, my hand is cramping.
You know, I think the last time I wrote a full page of freehand was back in 2059 for—
Well, I suppose you’ll find out in due time.
Now, go on, say your prayer; and maybe smudge a few words onto that blank page, just for fun. Who knows, you might even make yourself smile. And why not!? Because here’s what I’m willing to bet: if you can make yourself smile, you can bring a grin to the lips of others, as well. And ain’t that what this is all about?
Okay—seriously, gotta run. (Next time, I’ll spring for the double-sided missive so I can really wax lyrical, how about that?)
Be well, kiddo!
See ya on the Path,
Cody (you know, you, from the future!—I mean, you figured this out already, right? Right!?)
Okay… so I lied about the letter.
But, just, imagine…
Imagine receiving a letter like that from your future self. What might go through your mind? Would you be able to follow your own advice?
We tend to think of wisdom as something external, as something to be grasped at, to be achieved. But wisdom is found inside. Good advice and good examples can be found outside the subtle bounds of your person—but not wisdom. That, you already have. Because wisdom is the internal resource you tap into in order to follow good advice and good examples.
Wisdom then, in this sense, is something that you do, here and now. Wisdom is a verb.
If wisdom can be said to amount to the ability to follow your own best advice (as Sam Harris is fond of saying, and I am fond of stealing), then I hope that this piece qualifies in some way.
I wrote a shorter, more serious version of this list some time ago during a creative exercise. It was buried in one of my many ongoing notebooks. I hadn’t thought about it since.
I don’t know why, precisely, but I felt… compelled to drag it out this week, give it a makeover, and present it as a distillation of the hardest earned wisdom I’ve won since I began unspooling.
As I’ve alluded above, I’ve learned not to question these things and to just move when I’m moved. So, as ridiculous as it feels to say in this context, I hope you heard something you needed to hear in these words of wisdom from my “future self.”
And—now I’m really going to go out on a limb—if you’re not averse to some homework, maybe you can find a few sheets of paper, a pen, and a quiet spot, and you can write a letter to your present self from a future or—honestly, I think this might even be more fun, because kids definitely say the darnedest things—past self.
Just try it and see what happens. You might surprise yourself.
Who knows… you might even make yourself smile!
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If you’re still in the mood for my particular brand of wordsmithing, please feel free to check out these pieces I think you’ll like: