Disclaimer: Because my
son more or less demanded
that I stop using him and
his life as material for my
column back when he was
12 or 13, I want to make it
perfectly clear to all my
readers (and any legal professionals
who are now retained
or may be retained
at some future time by
aforementioned son) that
this column is not about
him. It’s about me. The fact
that he happened to turn
21 on Saturday is mere coincidence.
So help me God.
Whenever I’m feeling
uncertain or like I may be
listing a bit off course, I like
to do this exercise that I
once heard Helen Gurley
Brown describe.
Imagine having tea or
coffee with your older, wiser,
more confident self.
What would she say? What
advice would she give?
Would she think you’re
worrying over all the right
things? Would she illuminate
a better way of getting
where you want to go? How
has her journey been different
(and richer?) than the
one you can currently imagine?
I know, it sounds hokey.
And I don’t believe that this
exercise has any kind of
magical properties. It’s just
a way to check in with myself
and articulate to myself
what I want and where I
might shift gears.
If only it were possible to
really jump into a time machine
and pour your younger
self a nice cup of tea and
experience. Putting aside
for just a moment the reality
that, at 21, I considered
myself too savvy and together
to have listened to
anyone’s wisdom, even my
own, here’s what I wish I
could go back and impart:
Today is ``some day’’ - as
in the mythical future date
when all conditions are perfectly
aligned to allow you
to pursue Big Scary
Dreams. When you say,
``Some day, I want to spend
s summer in Italy,’’ what
you really mean is, ``Since
I’m not going to figure out a
plan of action to make
something like that happen,
I think I’ll just feel inordinately
wistful for the
next 20 years every time I
watch a film set in Italy.’’
You don’t have to have a
fool-proof plan for the future.
If you keep waiting for
the plan to seem foolproof,
you’ll lose valuable time
that you could be using to
do things like figure out
how to take a trip to Italy
or learn how to paint.
It’s no disgrace to be less
than a wunderkind. Instead
of thinking of Mary Shelley
writing ``Frankenstein’’
when she was 19, think of
Frank McCourt, who spent
his career teaching high
school students, then wrote
``Angela’s Ashes’’ and won a
Pulitzer Prize after age 65.
You can spend years in
passive introspection and
self-reflection in hopes of
solving your problems and
discovering yourself. Or
you can spend hours actively
working to apply whatever
time, talents and resources
you have to solving
someone else’s problems,
and end up creating yourself
in the process.
You don’t always have to
be so savvy and together.
You’re the only one who’s
constantly watching to see
if you’ve made a mistake.
Elizabeth Trever Buchinger
still probably wouldn’t
listen to her time-traveling
self, but that makes life
more interesting. You can
connect with her at www.
moremindfulfamily.wordpress.
com.
