Dear 57-year-old Guat,
I don’t know what to tell you …
Thirty-seven wasn’t a great year, it could’ve been better. Mid-thirties … a lot of lessons. Too many. I should be a genius at your age. Genius. I’m hoping all the lessons are done and you’re enjoying whatever adventures are left on your bucket list.
“I ain’t settlin’, for just getting by.
I’ve had enough so-so, for the rest of my life
Tired of shooting too low, so raise the bar high
‘Just enough,’ ain’t enough this time
I ain’t settlin’ for anything less than everything”
I’m hoping you remembered the lyrics and kept them close. I’m hoping they continued to inspire you. I’m hoping that you lived by those rules. I know things don’t always turn out the way you planned — something I kept being reminded of in my 30s, but I’m hoping some things did work out for you.
I’m hoping you still have that picture of yourself — the one that reminds you of “you” and you look it every time you feel lost. I’m hoping that most of your gray hair and wrinkles are badges of honor — badges of adventure, excitement, and fun — and not so much of despair, worry, and sadness.
I hope you returned to Australia, but with your kids this time. It was the best trip of your life — a transformation. I hope they enjoyed it as much as you did. I hope you went bungy jumping again.
I hope you became that older gray-haired chick who still runs triathlons — the Ironman kind of older lady who whooshed by the 37 year-olds and made them want to run faster.
I hope you were a good parent — the kind you always thought you’d be. If not … you’re 57 … get on it. Let your kids read your old blog posts on Word Press, they’ll probably enjoy seeing what you were like when you were younger.
You’re three years away from the big 6-0. Throw yourself a party. A big party. Invite family and friends. Indulge in food and enjoy the music, let your inner 37 year-old Guat hit the dance floor.
Enjoy the party. Enjoy your life. Keep your sense of humor. And always be kind.
Your Younger Self