Write yourself a postcard this summer
Write yourself a postcard this summer
Words for your future self that you can trust
I used to collect postcards. They were my go-to souvenir from all the places I traveled.
The images were like little portals I could slip through, transporting me to key moments and memories.
The rolling hills of the Mongolian countryside. The lush and humid rain forests of East Malaysia. The Eiffel Tower sticking up in the centre of Paris like a metal dart in the heart of sprawl. The Three Sisters of Alberta’s tremendous Rockies blushed in rose and orange at sunrise.
I displayed these in my room. A map of where I’d been through Asia and the Middle East, places in Africa and cities throughout Europe. Memories that tracked not just my travels geographically, but the journey of my life.
At some point I developed a habit of writing myself a note on a postcard and sending it forward to home base. For me, faith comes alive when I travel out of my ordinary environment and routine. Across the world and, sometimes, even across town.
And because my world travels have mapped my spiritual journey, these postcards home helped me hold onto the essence of what I experienced as I made the transition back to the familiar.
It always grounded me, encouraged me, spurred me to splice the lessons from my trips into ordinary time. I’ve written before about how such mountaintop experiences, these wonderful times of spiritual learning and growth, are times of real clarity.
But so quickly that clarity can be lost in the normal and familiar.
Here’s a post from last summer on the importance of remembering:
Write yourself a postcard this summer
As we step into the summer and, hopefully, find moments to rest and reflect, I thought I’d drop this little piece of unsolicited advice: write yourself a postcard.
It’s, in some ways, an awkward exercise. Writing a note to yourself that the mail carrier can read, that a family member might see, is a strange proposition.
But you hold important information and wisdom that your future self needs.
You might not visit a European getaway or bathe in the sun on a tropical beach this summer. Perhaps, like me, you can only make it to an unexplored coffee shop in a nearby town.
Wherever you find yourself some quiet to reflect, send your thoughts forward to yourself. You’ll do yourself a solid.
What do you write?
If you need some prompts, here are a few Qs you can answer in your own voice and your own way. Ask yourself:
What’s something I learned recently that is important to hold onto?
What’s something that brings me joy that I don’t want to lose sight of?
What’s a scripture (or a quote or a song) that has really cut through the noise of my life to fill my heart with hope or give me a sense of purpose?
What desire has floated up to the top-of-mind that I really want to see fulfilled?
What’s something I’ve done in the last little while that makes me proud of myself?
For what it’s worth, I find that addressing myself with “a twinkle” matters. Do you know what I mean? As if my aged, future, 80-year-old self was looking at the kid that I still feel like I am with a mix of affection, nostalgia, and surprise.
That future me—who I want to be and, whether I know it or not am forming myself to be right now through my choices and habits and decisions—looks at me now with kindness. And I really like both those guys.
I plan to write myself a postcard this summer. Join me.
Your future self will thank you.