Everyone’s free to wear sunscreen
Wear sunscreen…
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen…
Intropection
Maybe the best way to let go of the past is to not be a sucker for punishment by returning over and over to the memory. Criminals don’t return to the scene of the crime. Why then, should it be different for the thoughts that lurk behind those deceiving masks?
I’ve seen my initial assumptions corrected over the past few weeks. No, they _are_ high flyers, may be the people I can never hope to match up to. But still I try anyway.
My favourite word is “acquittance”, in that I can face myself in the mirror, because I’ve acquitted myself well if I did what I was supposed to do, to the best of my ability.
But the Taoist symbol inspires me too. It’s a constant reminder of the cyclical nature of life – closure and rebirth. A reminder that things never are too bleak for contemplation. Because somehow the unending horror has to end one day.
And I should probably thank my coach for giving me this phrase – don’t make excuses for yourself. Because it just shows that you’re weak inside. Because you’re ultimately responsible and accountable to yourself. But mostly because your internal monologue knows when you’re lying. And you feel like shit afterwards, because you weren’t truthful to yourself. It hurts even more when you realize that you had to make up excuses to cover for your lack in ability.
That what you do creates karma. That your actions are linked to each other, in essence a domino effect. And no matter how tenuous that connection, it still affects you somehow. Coming back to bite you in the ass.
Closure and acceptance is the final stage, I think, in moving on past memories. Achieving closure is not done through avoidance, but confrontation. Confrontation not through outright frankness, but acceptance of the way things will be.
Maturity
I look back, and I realise that I’m not too far removed from the guy who could do stupid things and say stupid crap. Shooting my mouth off without forethought. Doing things that I shouldn’t be doing.
Ah well…at least I know. And in the words of Socrates, “I know more that others because I know that I know nothing.”
Interesting sentiments.
The follies of youth
I look back on past posts and think back on my past…and I’m amused by what I did and how I thought.
But don’t we all have high hopes and limitless horizons? Crushed and tossed aside, they’re no more than memories of a sweeter childhood that has been left behind.
But in exchange I’ve gained maturity and sensibility. Lost my innocence, gained new perspectives. Older? Yes. Wiser? Maybe not. But it’s still a learning journey anyway.
