Things I would say to my younger self...

We all have them!

Those cringe-worthy moments from our past that make us ask, 'What in tarnations was I thinking?' - if you were thinking at all. Often, we forget to give ourselves grace for stupid stuff we did or said when we were younger, whether because we didn't know any better, lacked information, or were just a bunch of know-it-all upstarts with egos the size of galaxies. The best we can do now (besides cringe in eternal embarrassment) is glean life lessons from those experiences and missed opportunities, and, hopefully as a result, become less of an upstart as we journey into adulthood still wondering "what will I be when I grow up?".

As I write this, eyes bloodshot, seated in my pyjamas and warm socks with pizza patterns on them, a cold realisation hits me as the seemingly indifferent universe decides to remind me that I am old enough to have life lessons. But what are those lessons of life? That simple question opened a pandora's box of existential dread as other nagging questions flood in, keeping me from elusive sleep: What have I learnt so far? Have I learnt nothing? Would I have done things the same way if given a chance? Are socks like these appropriate for a man my age?

And, most importantly, what life lessons would I tell my younger self, if such a chance ever occurred?

As I reflect on these questions, I remember my younger self - half-baked, fresh out of college, full of promise and a poor fashion sense. What comes strongly to my recollection is how much he (my younger-self) wanted to change the world. Yes, cheesy - I know, but I have to be honest: I was a believer who drank two servings of Kool-Aid, was prepared to make a difference (face-palm!) and leave the world better than I found it.

He truly believed that. I believed that.

A part of me kinda still does, remarkably, but something has changed - shifted in me. As I navigate this part of my life that Gen-Z call 'adulting', I find that the uber-enthusiasm and boundless optimism (and frankly arrogant certainty) of that younger version of myself has been tempered. His preconceived notions, often implicit, about people and the world have been challenged - upended. While I still see myself in him, I wonder if he would recognise himself in me now.

So what would I say to him, knowing all the frustration, failure and disappointment that awaits him in a world that evokes wonder and concern in equal measure?

I would probably say something in the shape of these 5 life lessons:

1. Whether you like it or not, there is a reality outside your perception of reality. You can ignore reality and cling to your perception of it, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring that reality. Always consider the possibility of multiple realities to your own.
2. Whether you like it or not, your world view is shaped by implicit assumptions and is therefore incomplete, limited or just plain wrong. Check and be wary of your assumptions, hold them lightly, or face perpetual frustration where your amazing project ideas, on paper, keep failing in real life.
3. Whether you like it or not, there are no solutions, there are only trade-offs. Even when you believe you are making progress, there will always be a cost to that progress, even if it isn't immediately apparent. Be honest and understand the cost of the progress you seek, especially for other people, and ask if they (not just you) are willing to pay that cost.
4. Whether you like it or not, not all social norms or traditions need to be changed or challenged. Sometimes, you need to be humble enough to admit that you are not more enlightened than your ancestors. Yes, they got a lot of things wrong, but they also got somethings absolutely right, often while living in much harsher conditions than you. Take time to understand why they established those social norms or traditions before you annoy people trying to change them.
5. Whether you like it or not, philosophies or ideas have consequences. Even if you feel strongly about an idea or philosophy, its value or utility can only be judged by its results, even if such results take time to manifest. Simply put, intentions, even well-meaning ones, don't matter - results do. If you want a different result, you have to change your underlying ideas or philosophies, even if it feels impossible to do so.

I don't know if he would listen to me, he was stubborn as he was passionate, but as I reflect on these life lessons, I am reminded that each misstep, awkward moment or bout with uncertainty has contributed to who I am today. It's all part of this beautiful, messy process of becoming - of evolving.

And it never stops.

As I finish writing, still in my cozy pizza socks with the morning glow behind the curtains, I'm struck by this comforting thought: while the universe may be indifferent, our ability to allow ourselves to learn, to grow, to change, is what gives our lives meaning. We may never have all the answers or avoid every misstep, but we can always strive to be kinder to ourselves and look forward to the person we will become, each day.

Oh great! Now I feel sleepy!