A Conversation With My Younger Self

What does “life sucks” mean? At some point, I’m sure it meant my parents not buying me a Kinder surprise or maybe my crush at school not writing me back. For long periods of time, maybe it was simply the struggle to build a career or find a home.

The one thing I wish I knew during all of these times is the classic “This too shall pass.” But not only will things pass, I’ve really learned to love the lows of life. And now that I’m 30, I look back at almost all the lows fondly, thankful for the perspective, strength, and wisdom they brought along.

In fact, I’m curious about my next challenges and low points in life, and the person they will forge. Who will I be when I lose my parents? What will come of me if I have some form of terminal illness or I lose my mobility or senses? What if I lose all my livelihood and money? Most importantly, what if I lose my only redeeming physical quality, my hair? (It’s a joke don’t worry.)

All jokes aside, some of these events are inevitable, and most are ones that will definitely put me in a very miserable place, at least for some time. So what have I done to prepare knowing that they’re coming?

Did I spend enough time with my parents? Did I learn about their qualities and values, whether it be good or bad? Am I able to pass on their legacy and light to my surroundings after their consciousness transcends? Am I appreciating their very existence every day?

Have I nurtured my brain enough to keep myself occupied if I’m bed-ridden, only able to think and read? Have I been listening intently to the beautiful world, voices, and music around me, in case I wake up one day only able to hear, darkness being the only thing I see?

Are material things a big part of my happiness? Am I ok with losing everything I have and will I still maintain my inner peace and purpose?

These may be questions, but they hold the answers within them.

I wouldn’t have learned to appreciate my family and parents as much as I do now without spending considerable amounts of time away from them in the last few years. I wouldn’t have been grateful for my health and well-being without coming face to face with death and accepting our eventual mortality. I wouldn’t have learned how far my mental strength can go without being broke and failing at my startups. I wouldn’t have dreamt a new life without shedding my previous one.

I wouldn’t have built up my value chain:

Honesty.

Kindness.

Justice.

Joy.

Curiosity.

So younger me, if I ever come back on a Time Machine and try to change you, please tell me to f*** off. The pain is well worth it.