WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOUR OLDER, WISER SELF GIVE YOU?

Have you ever pictured what you would be like at the end of your life? I recently did this as part of a guided visualization exercise, and I found it both difficult and insightful. I was asked to picture myself as an old woman, enjoying my birthday celebration towards the end of a life very well lived. My present-day self would drop in on the celebration and talk with my older, wiser self. At first it was tough to imagine. What did I look like at the end of my life? What was I thinking about? What was the expression on my face?

As I relaxed into the visualization, I was able to imagine my hands. They were my grandmother’s hands, age spotted and skin nearly translucent. Dark blue veins running up the backs and into my arms. My face became clearer when I focused on the expression I would see there. I saw myself at peace in a way that I haven’t experienced yet in this life. Contentment and serenity were written across my face. I had done all that I needed to do, and now I could just be. There was also a hint of mischief in my expression. A quirk to my smile that indicated I was up to something, and it was very likely a lot of fun.

The visualization guided me to find a quieter room to talk with my older, wiser self. We settled in so that I could ask her the big questions. Where should I focus my time and efforts? What should I pay close attention to? What should I ignore?

My older, wiser self put down her tea mug and looked at me intently and with curiosity. I was, after all, interrupting her party to ask for advice that I subconsciously already knew. The first thing she told me is that my kids will turn out just fine, so for heaven’s sake stop worrying so much. Phew. Good to know, older self. She told me to be braver and bolder. To let go of that last little bit of caring about what other people think of me.

She also told me to focus on the things that make me feel really alive. You know, the things that make your skin feel tingly all over, and fill you with a sense of joy. She told me to find more of that, and selfishly hang onto it. She also urged me to seek the lightheartedness and humor in things, even when they feel really hard. She took my hands and told me to be more compassionate with myself. Her hands really were just like my grandmother’s! I crinkled my nose up at her. Yes, we both know that’s hard for me. Okay, I nodded to her. I understood.

Our visit was almost over. In parting, my wiser self handed me a gift. It was a wrapped box that contained an object to remind me of all that she’d told me. I accepted the box and stared at it, the yellow ribbon on top taunting me. I was supposed to picture what was in the box, and I was stumped. What would she give me? What would she most want me to remember? I looked at her again, waiting for me to open the gift. She was worn and withered, slow and deliberate, peaceful and content. And yet, also spry and mischievous.

Finally, I had it. I was able to picture opening the box. In it was a pair of Groucho Marx style glasses. You know, the ones with the big nose and furry mustache? Glasses with no lenses? I grew up watching Marx Brothers movies and have a soft spot for slapstick comedy. I slipped the glasses on. Peering out into the world from a bulbous nose and tickly mustache, it’s pretty hard to take yourself very seriously. You can’t help but giggle a little and shrug your shoulders at all of it. And that’s exactly what my older, wiser self wanted for me. She wanted a little more bold and playful, and a little less stern and focused. More pleasing myself and going after what I love.  A lighter, more compassionate heart.

I finished the visualization and opened my eyes. I smiled quietly and pulled up the amazon app on my phone. I knew what I had to do.

A pair of plastic Groucho Marx glasses now sit on my desk. I don’t wear them often. Mostly when I have writers block. Still, they are a visual reminder of what I want for myself, of what’s really important. I want to remember that its ok to giggle and shrug my shoulders at life. That I can prioritize the things that make me feel alive. That I can be compassionate with myself.

What’s in your box? What would your older, wiser self tell you? If she handed you a gift to remind you of her sage advice, what would it be?

Are you ready to take the advice that your older, wiser self would give you? Reach out to explore coaching with me.