On New Year’s Day*, I received an e-mail – from my past self**.
27-year-old Eszter (Maura) was convinced she could never write her “(future) self a letter and not remember every word of whenever it is actually delivered”. She could. I forgot every word of it.
I will not quote it, being, typically, a mix of English, Spanish and Italian.
My past self had pretty much the same goals as I do, including one regarding coming to Brussels, about which I could have some words with her. She asked me about work (best I’ve had and quite cool on a universal scale), about dance, mentioning pizzica and tammurriata (which I have since danced, though not nearly enough), as well as Oriental (I came a long way since that moment, and brewing new things these days***); about health (gosh, worst two years past, hopefully ever, getting better now); about autonomy (nailed it).
She asked me about my paperboat project (an imaginary travel agency, left in half – my fleet is supposed to be at a friend’s place, though she moved last year…), my writing (see elsewhere on this site), about travels (I’m quite content on this point). She asked me if she was still single (not still, but again).
She reminded me about a certain trip to Cádiz I was planning: postponed, it’s still on schedule.
Looking at this, I’m much more satisfied with my life.
* New Year’s Day, 2016. I was in a way too bad place last year to write about it.
** Write yourself one at www.futureme.org.
*** I cannot bring myself to write about future plans without a set time and a high probability, so I’ll write about them more in detail when that moment comes.