I’m currently having a luxuriously lazy Sunday morning. Slept in, had a leisurely breakfast that even included coffee (I would’ve included some photos, but didn’t realize the memory card wasn’t in my camera until after I’d eaten it all), chatted on the phone with Kanata, surfed the internet, and am now watching one of my favourite guilty-pleasures movie, “First Knight”. I don’t care how bad this movie is, it just strikes the perfect chord with the secret medieval romantic in me. Just for the record, I never understood why Lady Guinevere would ever cheat on King Arthur with Lancelot. It’s King Arthur of Camelot for Heaven’s sakes! Especially if that King is Sean Connery. Seriously. He’s “300 years old and still a stud!”
On my internet wanderings this morning I stumbled on some interesting stuff out there:
http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/ Very cool. It only works in Google Chrome though. At one point in the video you can send yourself a “postcard” to your younger self. I wrote mine on a whim; I pictured seeing myself at age 13 and just typed the first thing that came into my mind: “There is beauty in not knowing”. My whole life I’ve been very fearful of change and not knowing what was coming. In the past, I’ve let that fear prevent me from fully living my life and enjoying the here and now. I don’t think I was even aware that that was what I was doing until recent years. Meeting Len had a lot to do with the change in my perception. He’s taught me to be okay with not knowing. Or I’m trying to learn that anyway. And trying to glory in the small happinesses of each day. I am actively trying to find beauty in everyday and everything that it brings. Some days I’m more successful than on others.
I got to thinking that if I were to write a letter to my 13 year old self, what would I say? I thought of telling her that life will get so much better past high school, that she is beautiful and that in her own way, she already brought beauty to the people and world around her and that she would continue to do so. That she is absolutely worth it. That she will come closer and closer to becoming that person she always wanted to be. That life will on occasion, as Buffy would’ve put it, suck beyond the telling of it. But that it will be during those times that she will learn unforgettable lessons about finding laughter and beauty everywhere in the world. So don’t be afraid of what’s coming.
I thought of all that and more to tell her. But then I realized that I am the person I am today because of all those experiences and thoughts and emotions that I had back then. So would I really want to change any of that if given the chance? We are all on our own journey, and we all learn from every experience and thought, be it positive or negative. I don’t think I’d even tell my younger self that I’ll be okay. I think I’d want her to learn that along the way. I might give her a hug though. Cuz I think she didn’t get too many of those in those days.
In Montgomery’s Emily books, the 14 year old character writes a letter to her future 24 year old self, seals it up, and doesn’t read it again until 10 years later. When I mentioned that to Len, he suggested we write letters now to ourselves 10 years from now. And then he went on to suggest we write each other letters to be read 10 years in the future. What a romantic and intriguing idea! Except that I have no idea how my impatient, need-to-know-NOW self could ever wait 10 years to find out what he’d written me.
What would I write to my future self and future Len? To myself, I would describe a little of how I felt about my life as it is today, what I love about it and what I hope to find in it 10 years from now. I would ask her if the same people/things that are important to me now are still important to her? I would include snapshots, both literal and verbal, of the mundane things in my daily life now to give her a glimpse back.
To Len, I would describe what I most love about him now, our favourite memories to date, and what I hope will be in our future. I would include some of the silly, passing little inside jokes that we share these days and ask if he still remembers them? I would ask if he remembers this very morning, this seemingly non-descript, insignificant, but oh so delightful and happy morning, when he came up with the idea of doing this.
On another note, I discovered this photographer’s work, and I find it hauntingly beautiful.
Hmm, morning has come and gone; maybe I’d better get a move on my day…
I’d love to know: what would you tell your younger self?