To me, an aeon ago!
Sometimes, when watching videos or reading interviews with artists or seniors in the creative industry, I come across the question, “If you could give your younger self one piece of advice, what would you say?” Most people will give very reasonable answers, such as paying attention to your health, finding hobbies outside of work, looking at things through a more relaxed lens, especially when things don’t go as planned… In my work and life, I’ve often received similar advice.
I can feel most of the suggestions are sincere and come from hard-won experience. Those who came before have stepped on nails and fallen into pits, so now they inform the juniors which paths to avoid and which to take. I am extremely grateful for that well-intentioned advice. But it seems failing is the only way I can learn. I knew all the things I shouldn’t have done, but I still plunged headfirst into them, because only by going through defeat and loss could I become a little more humble. If you’re wondering, I’m still quite presumptuous though to a lesser degree than before, and there’s still a long way to go before I could shed my ego.
It was because of said ego that my younger self didn’t listen to anyone’s advice. She would do things her own way, regardless of what anyone said about how draining, restrictive and unbalanced that lifestyle. My current self is still just as stubborn, but a little more remediated knowing the pain and humiliation of not being able to conquer the beast. But thanks to that, I’ve discovered how peaceful and wonderful life truly is.
So if today, or even in the future, anyone were to ask me what I would advice my past self, I would answer, “Nothing!” She would climb the mountain I climbed, then slip and fall into the dark abyss below. There, she would meet a friend and a teacher. There, she would see light shining from the darkness. And there, for the first time in her life, she would know of love – a pure, natural, unconditional love.
On second thought, perhaps I would tell that story to my past self. I would carefully avoid telling her the details of that slip (given her personality, I’m sure even if she knew, she wouldn’t change course, so I wouldn’t waste my energy advising her to avoid this or that). Instead, I would say:
Keep going, my beloved sister. This difficulty won’t last forever. I understand what you’re doing and I wholeheartedly support you. I can’t guarantee the future will turn out exactly as you want it to, but that future is beautiful, my dear! You’ll understand what I mean soon. For now, I want you to know that whatever your decision, I thank you. Our future is the way it is thanks to you.
I love you and will always cherish you!
Me – to be precise, “your new self”