This Year's Wish
If I met a past version of myself today, I wouldn't know if we would get along. Four years ago, I didn't surf. I thought I had my life figured out; but nobody ever does, except the old, the wise, and the satisfied. I guess we could talk about books, or compare the same tattoos to see if they still meant the same things to us. She would balk at how short my reading list was; I'd laugh and tell her to get a tan. It ends nicely, with her still shaking her head in disbelief: surfing? really? She'd tell me not to give up on that Master's Degree and I'd promise her that vegetables weren't all that bad. One thing we'd agree on was living by the sea. In a heartbeat, she'd thank me for that.
We're all allowed to grow; and that is enough for me to believe that everyone will find their place-- the one that makes us satisfied, wise, and old. This is my wish for all of us this year, and next year: may we grow to become someone our past selves will love; and someone our future selves will thank us for.