Dear Future Self,
First of all, you were supposed to write down all of the things you learned throughout the year, but journaling seemed to go by the way back in January. It would have helped to have had some notes so that I could remind you of everything you experienced.
I’m trying to write to you in my post-sweat euphoria from exercise class. That’s one good thing you kept doing this year, even through your hip replacement. Sure, you had some setbacks, but you completed your 80th cycling class today and finally broke the last/last streak in class. Tonight, you were 15 out of 19 students for speed and power. Even though you tell yourself it’s not a competition, it kind of has been. Instead of a nice big bowl of macaroni and cheese to celebrate, you made a healthy choice and are enjoying a big, cold glass of…water.
I never said you got any more interesting this year.
This week’s messages from your exercise coaches seem to have made the wheels turn in your mind. It started with the idea that “pain doesn’t have to be bad.” You and James talked about this in your weekly writing session as you keep trying to push the words out onto pages that remain blank. You didn’t even want to try sometimes, and I’m not sure when you started taking the easy way out by closing your notebook and letting days pass before you wrote anything. You’ve taken how you’ve pushed yourself with exercise and are applying these lessons to writing now. It’s not too late; there’s still time left in the year. I hope you’ll stay the course. Remember that the more you write, the better you feel because the more you figure out about the world around you.
You are proud of yourself for almost completely letting go of your Martha Stewart tendencies even though your husband still doesn’t believe you. Evidence: you look around the house at the books still on the floor from classes back in September, dishes in the sink, crafts on the dining room table, and a never-ending pile of laundry, you have realized all of these things will still be there after you finish reading a book, or three. And, when your friends came over, they didn’t mind the mess because you ate cheese and crackers and talked about books you were reading instead. Maybe your haphazard house also made your friends feel better about their own cleaning decisions. In a way, your messy house could very well have been a public service.
Speaking of reading, you also slowed down in the morning, drinking an extra cup of coffee while reading in bed. A much better way to start the day than fretting over work that also will still be there after you finish reading a book, or three. You are embarrassed to admit that you can’t remember all of the books you’ve read this year, but you know that occasional dissociation through literature is healthy considering many other alternatives. Or, as at least one online influencer reminded you, “all of these books could have been drugs.” Good thing you bought a new bookshelf this year!
There was a lesson I wish you didn’t have to learn though when you lost a friend before you could make amends. You learned there is a balance between giving someone time to be angry at what you said while also learning to apologize several more times. The person had every right to be angry at you, but you didn’t have to completely disappear and hope that more time would heal the rift. You are reminded again that there really isn’t any time to waste when you need to tell people how much they mean to you. How much you love them.
The last week of class, your students implored you to tell them that “it” gets better. “It” ranged from school, to life, to relationships. That is always a hard question for you to answer although this year, you had some clarity. Through the political miasma of DOGE and the government shutdown, your own recovery from surgery, and the loss of your dad and your girlfriend, you realized that “it” doesn’t get better, but you do. You were better able to handle the mistakes you made and the misadventures you caused. You admitted you didn’t know something more often and told your friends you needed help (and learned to just say “thank you” when they offered it). No day was perfect, but the aggregate of the year, of a lifetime, looks good from where you are sitting right now. You just have to remember this.
So, fold this letter up and tuck it into your journal. Read it again next year. Or, more likely, read it again when you find it in several years and remind yourself how fortunate you have truly been.
And please, take better notes. You may not remember all of the good things that happened to you otherwise. After all, I won’t be around forever to remind you. Don’t forget to tell yourself that you keep getting better. You just need a little more time.
