Four years ago, I wrote a letter to myself. I did this as part of an exercise with my students. It’s a tradition that during the summer between 8th and 9th grade we hijack them for the day to get to know them and welcome them into high school. The evening closes with them writing a letter to themselves that we return when they graduate. The question posed to them is, “What do you hope you’ve experienced by the time you graduate?”
With unexpected anticipation, I opened the letter I had forgotten I’d written. It was such a mystery to me to be holding this single sheet of paper. What did 26-year-old Brendan hope for me? Who was I then, living in anticipation for who I am now?
I read my four-year-old forgotten hopes and realized that I stand in a place of greater wisdom and experience than the man I was then…and saw that every one of those hopes was fulfilled over the previous 48 months. This surprised and pleased me, because I am not a person who hopes easily. To see that I had lofty expectations for myself that, somehow, I managed to meet made me quietly thankful for the past four years.
Who will I be in another 48? What did 27-year-old Brendan hope for that I’ll rediscover in a year?
I look forward to more surprises next year and, with any luck, I can be the man my three-year-old hopes make me out to be.
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