I sat down the other day and began thinking about what it truly was that I wanted to accomplish in 2010.  But before I could come up with any meaningful goals to set, I had to think backwards about what things I ultimately want out of life, and what mini-goals I could set for the upcoming year in order to contribute to those big picture goals.

I wanted to share this with you as you sit down to think about what 2010 is going to be about for you, and hope it inspires some meaningful reflection.  Here’s to a thought-inspired new year, filled with lots and lots of ass-kicking.  If you haven’t started putting your aspirations into action, now is the time.  Stop whining and get out there and do something!

I started writing, and this is what I came up with: A letter to my future self that allows me to talk candidly to myself and outline exactly what my expectations are for myself in life.  And yes, I do hope to live to be 90…as long as my liver can keep up, that is.  It seems that whatever foreign country I’m in, there’s always a beverage worth sacrificing my motor skills on a semi-regular basis.

Dear 90 Year Old (Hopefully) Non-Denture Wearing Self,

How’s it going, you sexy thing you?  I sincerely hope that by now you aren’t covered in wrinkles, smelling like moth balls and pinching people’s cheeks. And if you are doing any pinching, make it a worthwhile pinch, preferably some dashing young man’s buns.  Always go for the gold; he won’t hit you–you’re 90!  That said, I also really hope that you aren’t rocking one of those beehive do’s that seem popular with people your age.  I might be able to overlook the gingham print mu’u mu’u dress, but not the hive.  Anything but the hive.

Anyway, I’m writing to see whether or not you ever got up off your tush and did something with your one precious life. You’ve always had so many different ideas you were juggling at the same time, it was hard to keep up.  But that’s what I always liked about you; whenever you saw something you wanted, there was no holding you back.  I hope you haven’t lost that fierce free-spiritedness about you, Ambirge.  It was always one of the things, if any, that I thought would surely bring you success. Or at least some damn good stories to tell.

The last we spoke, you were in your mid twenties and were optimistic about the world and all it had to offer, and all you had to offer it.  You had a certain zest for living life–and as much as you could of it–at all times.  You were never one to let the moment pass you by, from the time you jumped into the hotel pool still fully clothed in your business suit (national meetings at corporate headquarters always were enough to drive you to do something to make sure your spirit was still alive in there, somewhere) to the time you decided on a Friday to fly from Philadelphia to San Diego for the weekend to have dinner with friends, you never did let any grass grow under your feet.  I think at one time you may have even convinced the Jamaican waiter in Ochos Rios to give you a kiss, just because you thought he was cute.  And I blush to even mention the guy from….ah, just nevermind that.  Are you still doing things for the sheer pleasure of it?  Or have you become stiff, uptight, and guilt-laden for indulging in things purely because they’re fun? I hope not, Ambirge.

Professionally, you were going through a bit of a transition, if I recall correctly.  Though now that I think of it, you were always going through a transition.  It seemed as if no desk job was ever big enough for you; you often became restless and were in a continual state of transition as a result.  I remember once telling you that you should probably settle down at some point; you snapped right back at me and said you refused to stop until you finally found something that lit up your soul and fueled you with passion.  Something that you ached to do when you weren’t doing it, and something that you’ll be honored to dedicate your life to. Though, in the end, I think you’ve probably realized that you never had to be just one thing; you can be many things, and derive satisfaction in different ways from each that, together, harmonize to be the you that you had imagined.  Did you find that passion?  More importantly, was your life representative of the things you were passionate about?

Regardless of what you’re doing, or where you are, I want you to know that as long as you were able to wake up every morning and be excited to get out from under the covers, then you did something right.  If you were able to pass by others on the street and greet them with a sincere enthusiasm that just springs right out of you, manifesting itself as a warm smile and contagious energy, then you did something right. If you were disappointed to see the sun set each night, because you didn’t want the day to come to an end just yet, then you did something right. And when the sun did set, if you were able to dance all night long to the beat of nothing more than your heart, then you did something right.  And I’m proud of you.

I can only hope you have followed the advice I gave you long ago: The moment in which even one of those things becomes untrue, you owe it to yourself to keep exploring your options until all four are true.  The details always work themselves out. That’s important to remember, because if not, everything will have seemed overwhelming and you’ll become paralyzed by that.  Were all four true for you?  Are you simply excited to be alive?

Furthermore, as a side note, I hope you never, ever, ever compromised your aspirations for the sake of a significant other.  Because if you were actually their significant other, then you would be significant. And by extension, so would your aspirations.  Never live incompletely just so you can complete someone else. You aren’t a martyr.  You’re an awe-inspiring human being with the capabilities to do great things.  You must live as one, and I genuinely hope you have taken advantage of that fact.  Have you lived completely, and without regret?

You probably remember me saying over and over that there is nothing to be scared of, because no matter what happens, everything will always work itself out one way or another.  I remember seeing a vague sense of fear in your eyes, masked by your eternal enthusiasm, the last time we spoke and that’s perfectly natural…but I hope you have been careful never to let that fear have an impact on your decisions.  It can water them down, water you down, and water your life down. And who wants a watered down version of anything?  I hope you have been a stiff glass of bourbon, created to make an impression…not the Shirley Temple, non-alcoholic version of yourself.

If there had been a secret photographer, photographing one image of you every single day throughout your entire life, would the final slideshow be something you’d be proud to show to others?  Would it be one that made you smile with nostalgia to flip through, or weep with bitter regret?

If there had been a secret writer, writing one story about you every single day throughout your entire life, would the final book be something you’d be proud to have others read?  Would it be one that made you laugh with fond remembrance as you pour over each word, or yawn at the repetitiveness and lack of fresh, invigorating experiences as you indifferently skim through the pages?

If there had been a secret videographer, videotaping one clip of you every single day throughout your entire life, would the final movie be something that you will have been proud to have starred in?  Would it be one that you’d recommend to others, or one you’d suggest skipping?

Whether you had thought of it this way or not, every moment you spent, every decision you made and every experience you did or did not allow yourself, all collectively come together to construct the slideshow, the book and the movie of your life. Are you proud of yours?  I hope so, because you only get the chance to make one slideshow, one book and one movie – no rewrites.  Fortunately, even though you can’t go back and edit, you can always change the plot for the future.

I guess the most important thing to ask yourself is this: Are you happy?  Do you have any regrets?  Have you done all that you had hoped for? And are you at peace with the way your life has turned out?

Your death is certain, but your life has been a choice.  Here’s to hoping you have lived it, Ambirge.

With love,

Your sassy, less wrinkly twenty-something year old self

P.S.  I still think you messed up by never going to find that Spanish guy from Barcelona.  90 or not, you should probably go get ‘er done.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Argentina + An 11 Year Old Boy + Greatest Business Asset of All
• Trust, Humanity & A Dutch Pilot. Otherwise Known As The Important Things In Life.
• Fear, Exposed – Featuring Monica O’Brien
• Resolutions Are For Chumps. I Choose Revolution.
• Fear, Exposed – Featuring Illana Burk