I am a prolific journaler, and have been for a while. I’ve made it a consistent practice for more than 13 years now.
While its primary value is in helping me process feelings and events I’m experiencing, I appreciate how it gives me an opportunity to look backward and see how far I’ve come.
When you're floating — seemingly adrift — on the Sea of Life Being Life, it helps to remember that this isn't the first time you've felt lost at sea, and that you have indeed found your way back to land before.
Since I started doing inner child work via therapy several years ago, I sometimes think about what words I'd share with my younger self who was struggling.
This practice crystalized the transformative power of self-compassion for me.
These last four years of tumult — through a divorce, multiple moves, and career changes — have been a period of deep experiential growth in a way that I hadn't lived through before.
A lot of my previous healing and growth had been cognitive, without nearly as much movement and external change. From the outside looking in, my life at the end of 2018 didn't look that different compared to 2016 or 2014.
Since then, it's been a dramatic unfolding from one version of myself to another, accompanied by changes in where I live, what my career looks like, and who I spend my time with.
Being able to look back at the snapshots in time my journaling practice offers has been meaningful for me in remembering these old versions of me that still live inside me now in some form.
And while it's not a frequent practice for me, I have made it a habit to close down each year by writing a letter to myself a year ago.
That's where self-compassion comes into play.
Because what would you say in such a letter, if you truly believed your past self could read it?
If there were good things coming, would you spoil it for them? Would you risk telling them something that would change whether it worked out?
I wouldn't. I don't.
But I do want to tell them that it's going to be okay.
That their feelings and pain are valid.
That the thing that feels really, really hard right now is going to be okay.
That it's not only solvable, but solved.
That it's okay to lay down that emotional weight.
That they don't have to keep carrying that burden around.
That it can be even better than they imagined.
That’s the epitome of self-compassion.
There's a lyric from one of my favorite songs, Unready by Gordi1, that comes to mind.
"I was always ready but unready for what this might do."
When you can live from a place of being ready for good things to happen, and simultaneously surrender to the knowledge that it's still going to surprise you and transform you... that's where the big magic comes in.
That's the spirit I bring to these letters.
I've never shared one of these before, but I feel good about sharing this one.
Dear James,
This year is going to bring you joy, love, and satisfaction that you don’t even know to ask for. I’m so excited for you to get to experience that and discover what is possible for you.
I don’t want to spoil the surprise because sometimes the point is in the surprise. But I want you to know that even when the darkness closes around you, there is light. Keep going. Keep your eyes open for the light.
In 2023, you’re going to get to discover just how capable and valuable you are. And you’ll learn how those concepts are related, but not the same thing. No, your worth isn’t based on what you do for people. It comes from who you are. But from that place, yes, you are so capable and bring so much. This year’s going to show you that like you’ve never experienced before.
There will be people who make you feel seen and important. That will be a part of your life. You’ll get to experience that outside the context of romance, and still feel that in your bones the way you dream of — even better, actually. Having that experience matters. I promise you, it does.
There will be people who come into your life this year who will absolutely blow your mind. It will seem impossible that you connected with these people in the ways you will. I am ridiculously thrilled for you to get to have that experience. Sorry to be cryptic, but again — surprise! Enjoy it when it happens.
Your work life will expand beyond measure. There are things you’ve only let yourself dream of doing in distant, shadowed corners of your mind and heart, afraid of letting them be exposed to the light. This year, they will come forward. More quickly than you expect. And much bigger than you expected. Follow the joy in it. Let it guide your path. Let it shape who you become.
I’m looking forward to you closing the gap and getting to meet who you are meant to be.
Love,
James
Is this a practice you’ve ever tried? Or something similar? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
Wishing you a blessed New Year.
I’m also obsessed with this chilling vocoder version of Unready.
I haven’t, but I like it! Thanks
So much beauty in this letter, I felt so enlivened reading this on the first day of 2024! I felt lifted by several parts of this letter but this part really allowed me to pause:
' When you can live from a place of being ready for good things to happen, and simultaneously surrender to the knowledge that it's still going to surprise you and transform you... that's where the big magic comes in.
That's the spirit I bring to these letters.'
I also want to thank you for sharing your letter. The way you speak to yourself is beautiful and I hope many people will take from this offering.