You sometimes hear people saying things like “Future me is going to hate me for this,” or “Past me would never believe I can actually do this now.” I recently realized that I have spent time with Past Lisa and Future Lisa in some very specific ways that have helped bring some joy and ease to my life.
This year one of my “26 for 26” goals is to read an old journal of mine each month. I haven’t gone back to read old journals since I think I was in my 30s, even though I’ve hung on to them going all the way back to my first Snoopy one in 4th grade when I would rate the days with a grade, mostly determined by whether a cute boy I liked noticed me or if I had fun at school with my friends at recess playing Charlie’s Angels.
This particular visit with Past Lisa has been eye opening in many ways. Sometimes I find myself recognizing Present Lisa in the person who was writing and at other times I see ways I’ve really overcome some struggles that I had completely forgotten all about. Seeing how I’ve grown psychologically is unsurprisingly encouraging, but interestingly seeing how I am still stuck on some of the same old issues is also somewhat encouraging in a weird way; I’m recognizing how much time I’ve wasted trying to be someone different from who I am. Maybe it’s time for me to finally put some of that stuff down.
In my “24 for 24” goals I took all my falling-apart photo albums and moved the snapshots into photo boxes organized by milestone life periods: childhood, high school, college, grad school, and then this big 30 year period since (which has relatively few photos because they are all on my phone now). This was a huge project and was full of so much delicious and hilarious nostalgia I had to do it in little bits to not get overwhelmed. I listened to playlists from the era of each period to really dive in fully.
I got to relive so many moments of joy with people who are still in my life now – friends I’ve been close to since the time of those early photo boxes. It was fun snapping cell pics of the photos and texting them to unsuspecting long distance friends. I also found pictures with people who came in and out of life fleetingly, a few I couldn’t even remember, and others who I likely wouldn’t have ever brought to mind again without this reminder.
Different from the visit with private Past Lisa through my journals, this photo-based visit was with Past Lisa as a social being. My preferred ratio of social-to-alone time has gone down quite a bit in the last decade or so, and these glimpses of past me being goofy with my friends reminded me of a more spontaneous and social me. Even if my need for solitude is higher than the average bear, I was reminded how much social connection is fundamental to a meaningful life. It may be time to double down on efforts toward building more community.
Any fellow obsessive planners out there likely encounter Future You pretty consistently as I do, and the darker side of that can be worry about what will befall of Future You if the plans go awry. I have found a couple of writing exercises that have invited me to engage with Future Lisa in a helpful, intentional, and positive way.
This first one I’m honestly not sure if I made up or read somewhere years ago, but it’s been a great addition to my preparation for trips. One of the last things I do after zipping up the suitcase is to write a letter to Future Lisa. I welcome her home from the trip, and invite her to drop her stuff down and take a few moments to breathe, walk around the house, and settle back into my happy surroundings. I assure her that Past Lisa had her back, and that everything is all set up and ready to go for her to hit the ground running back into normalcy the next day. I encourage her to get comfortable, remind her what’s available to throw together for an easy and yummy dinner, and let her know it’s time to relax. I actually print this, sign it (“Love, Past Lisa”), and leave it out for myself to see when I walk in the door. I almost aways have forgotten about it and it makes me laugh at myself but also helps me breathe a sigh of relief that my transition back to home shouldn’t spike any anxiety.
The second I got from my absolute favorite book I read last year: The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad. This gorgeous book comprises 100 journaling prompts by creative people. If you are already a journaler or even slightly curious about starting, get this book right now. It’s life changing. One of the prompts asks the reader to write in exquisite detail about a perfect day sometime in the future. I started writing before giving it any thought and this absolutely wonderful day in New Orleans five years from now poured right out of my pen onto the page. I recently did another version of this for a year from now, while still living in “this life” in my present home and with my present job. Both of these were so enlivening, not only because they were like a little mini-vacation out of today and into a time I anticipate, but also because they made me recognize that a lot of the little ordinary detail I imagine then can easily be present today, right here and right now for Present Lisa, with a little intentionality.
Present Lisa is currently diving more deeply than ever before into mindfulness meditation and practicing daily being in the here and now, one breath at a time. In mindfulness meditation when your mind drifts to memories of the past or thoughts of the future, you gently guide it back. Nonjudgmental awareness of the present moment has countless benefits. But does that mean breaking ties with Past and Future Lisa? I don’t think so, but to avoid losing out on what’s right here now by drifting mindlessly backward and forward, I think the trick is to intentionally plan hangouts with these two pals that encourage them to bring gifts (like understanding, ease, or joy) to Present Lisa, the only one that actually exists.
What do you think – is it time to plan a hangout with Past or Future You?