Dear Will at 32,

April 10, 2067  (time travel!)

Dear Will-at-32,

You don’t always have to stop and meditate before you act. It’s up to you.

More than anything I want you to know that I am real and that I am okay. I love you just as you are right now and wouldn’t change you if I could.

Don’t worry about how to be a priest. You are doing it already. Pursue your art, your music, your writing. Sing out.

You are trying hard enough.

I know life is difficult for you. Know that you are on the right track. You have a good heart. The hard work has already been done, the rock ground down to diamond.

Let yourself shine.

Know that I am okay. I’ve gotten over any troubles you might have met on the way, any friendships that didn’t work out, any work failures.

What we accomplished, now, well I am not really thinking about the accomplishments. The paintings, the books, the churches, the sermons.

I wake up in this cottage by the forest with our beautiful husband, and I go for a walk by myself in the woods. The sunlight falls through the branches in a patchwork. The grass is moist. I have a cup of tea by the water. I pray. I still pray, but it’s not as serious or as scared anymore.

I pray with more conviction that I am listened to. My heart is more peaceful. Thank you. For sowing the seeds that made it this way.

I look out at the water and I think of all the people I knew along the way, people I still know. I understand now that each one was, is, important. I look to the sky, the trees – to what comes next. And I am happy, Will, I am so happy, and so proud of you and your friends, your lovers, and so proud of Mum and Dad for everything they gave me. I look at the lake, at the sunlight on it. And I think, thank you. May it continue. There are stars that shine down on this Earth.

Sometimes I think about difficulties. Regrets. Quarrels. I do what I’ve always done. I keep going.

Oh Will, I love you so much. Take everything that is given to you. Run like the wind.  Work as hard or as little – seriously, as little – as you want.

When the time comes for you to stand here, by this lake… the sunlight will still be here. It will still marvel you with its beauty. I promise.

You will still be standing. You will still be okay.

I’ve always known you had a good heart. I’ve always known we would stand here together. Burn as brightly as your heart desires. I know it desires the whole universe. And that is exactly as it should be.

Love you very much,

Will, at 80