A Letter to My 90-year-old Self

Dear 90-year-old Me,

It’s me, writing to you on the eve of my 46th birthday.

I hope this letter finds you in amazing health, surrounded by love, and overflowing with joy.

My biggest hope for you is that you lived life to the fullest to your heart and soul.

That you gave everything you had, held nothing back, and lived a life of service and contribution that left a positive impact on the world.

That you lived your calling, your sense of purpose, and your greatest dharma with a zest for the little moments in life.

You were fair, and fun to be around, and you took care of many while many took care of you.

You were a great friend to many… and many right back at you.

You had their back, and they had yours.

That you led with love and always took the high road, especially when it was hardest.

You loved life and everything in it with your whole self, not just your spare.

You moved the big needle and made a difference.

You grew regardless and shifted the work, turning Who Says… into a movement of What Say You?!

Fuzzies became a thing, and we loved each other more.

Suffering helped you understand how to serve and that you spoke truth to power, always remaining humble and wise.

You were a warrior in a garden.

You lived every day to your true north, helped raise great humans, and built a life with Erica as a “we.”

Erica is still the best part of your day, and your love has deepened to an unimaginable level.

You witnessed Ellie and James listening and following the unique songs of their heart.

They were part of the greatest work of your life.

Your legacy is not what you did but how you helped others.

You honored those lost in stories.

You traveled the world in distance and depth of the human experience.

You explored the depths of your consciousness and the cosmos.

You played a role in progress, used your heart and art to create unique expressions of your soul, and faced your deepest fears with courage.

You did what you came to do.

You lived In truth, In love.

You also fit in a little surfing, hiking, writing, playing, acting, and teaching.

Making your own music and marching to your own beat.

Now, as a 90-year-old, I hope you are still mobile, agile in mind, body, and spirit, still make Erica belly laugh, and still hold hands and take walks.

There is nothing you can’t do together.

I hope you are far from done creating and adventuring and that you continue to mentor and be mentored.

Question everything with ease and grace, and live with a gentle wisdom that continues to see more of how things work while always knowing you know very little.

It’s been a wild ride, but remember, the best is ALWAYS yet to come.

Take care, and I’ll see you soon.

Love, Me

P.S. — And remember, God only gave you what you could handle… you always found a way, just keep going!