Dear Magical Future self-
When time travel is created please send:
- A furry fox cape/hat thing for use at costume parties
- Enough money for me to learn how to make a bow and arrows, go to private David Deida seminars, take sexual qigong classes, have a membership at the athletic playground so I can take handstand classes, singing lessons, guitar lessons, Arabic lessons, buy land, solve the world’s problems, and …?
- A hovercraft so I may command the respect of middle school boys and science nerds everywhere and create an evil army, albeit a wimpy one, that is loyal and highly susceptible to coercion
- A lifetime supply of fake mustaches (see previous justification)
- Whatever other magical tools that you know I’m gonna need, cuz the future is gonna be rough!
Other than science, quantum physics, hovercrafts, and the way things are going to go down when the shit hits the fan (dude, man!) I don’t think too much about the future. But, today, I thought about it.
In the future my grandparents will die. We all, including my three remaining grandparents, die- but theses losses seem to loom with a threat of reality that I cannot forget or put off. Thinking about them gone I feel devastation, and combative as well as though I could negotiate them back to life, or to win the right for them to live forever. This would make only my grandmother Ginny very happy, Melba would be pretty pissed were she “granted” the right to live forever. I’m not sure how grandpa Bill would feel, he really enjoys WWII documentaries, and with his memory as it is he actually could enjoy watching them forever.
I see the truth of them living their long lives written in their wrinkles and in their eyes. The future without them is close. Did I know them as well as I could have? Did they feel fulfilled in their lives? Did they know how much I loved them? Did I love them well? When I think of my grandparents I have thoughts that play like memories. Though we never lived these moments, in my longed for past present I’m around this age sitting for a moment on grandma’s lap in the kitchen, having her saucily, and laughingly, chastise my boyfriend Eric. There are neighbors coming in and out talking about their minor dramas and sharing morsels of food. Friends are family and family is friends. We share tables and bread and land and streets and walks and stars and simple life. In this fake world of my memory my people are together one seamless tapestry that inhales with birth, exhales with death, and loves it all with fiery devotion.
I want this place to be real for my beloveds, for my glorious, glorious future ancestors. I want them to age all the way into the next world with their joy, with their fire and passion, with their human dignity- so that elder homes are as far away from possible as they actually are from acceptable. But that isn’t the future or the past, that’s my longed for future past.
The future is a place where I hope certain things have happened. In the future I will be running around with my best friend/lover making plans, traveling, scheming, sharing, making love, and laughing to the point of it being a form of exercise. In the future I will be living on the land. In the future our community is weaving itself together in incredible, brilliant, and profound ways. We are incorporating wisdom, technology, poetry, art, justice, and the sacred into a real tangible place. We are continuing to be awesome and are getting better all the time at manifesting that awesomeness through everything that we do. There are still problems in the future. The future does not cease to be the realm of imperfection, ugliness and pain. But I think in the future we’ve been getting better at doing those things beautifully too.
In the future I will be pregnant, with belly smooth, taught and round, and skin emanating vitality, warmth, and ecstasy. I will be experiencing inside of the heart of my body the slow unfolding of a new form of life, an actual creature that hasn’t yet been here on this earth. I get to feel that process happen inside of my own body, as though it were my own process, even though it will unfold in it’s own way, in it’s own time, and according to it’s own magical truth. I will get to experience knowing that other creature so sweetly and intimately that I may lose myself for moments in it. I will also get to know myself in a way I could never imagine now, but in the future I will live it into my bones and my body heart.
In the future I have no idea what I’ll be doing, except that it has to do with loving people, and building community. That is what’s most important to me. Looking into the future I see that what moves me are change, the revelation of truth, the ebbs and flows of relationships, community patterns, and some kind of progress. I care about progress. I want to contribute to it, I want to play my part. I care about a deeper more profound flow of human love, and human brilliance, and human wisdom. I am so excited to see the things we’ll create and the lives we’ll live. Sometimes I think I want to live forever because I want to see how the story ends. Then I wonder if I would understand it, like how an older person just doesn’t understand the music these days.
There are questions to ask of a future self: Are you giving your greatest gifts? If you’re not, are you seeking to dismantle the obstacles that prevent you from giving your greatest gifts? But these questions are actually much the same as I have for myself now.
Does time go in a circle or a line, a spiral, or a chaotic Jackson Pollack spray? Is this message going forward in time, or backward in time?
Were I writing to a younger self I might have lots of advice, wisdom to share or experiences to avoid because the trauma I experienced maybe seems to outweigh the learning. But in reality, as we’ve learned through such insightful films as “Back to the Future” 1, 2 and 3 and the Terminator, changing anything in the past threatens the fabric of existence in the future. Likewise I imagine that a future self won’t need advice from me because I’ll have already incorporated it. So what else is there to say to a past or future self other than I love you?
P.S. The future is a place I’m also very curious about. I have lots of questions. What shifts will take place in the major systems we rely on? What will the effects of global warming be like? Will future trends confirm my suspicions that the right sequence of large and yet manageable natural disasters will have compounding negative impacts on financial systems leading to crashing markets, political and social instability, fast spreading epidemics of primarily preventable waterborne illnesses, and a lurching (hopefully nonviolent) awkward return to more basic, if still value-based (rather than gift), local economies? If that does happen, could that return to local economies and self-reliance actually facilitate widespread social transformation? How will people choose to act? Will alternative models already in place actually ease transitions? Will people be resistant to a return to the dysfunctional systems of the past? How many will awake? How many will angrily fight to return to sleep?