Sharing Wisdom With Your 10-Year Old Self
If you could go back and give your ten-year-old self advice, what would you say?
Which lessons, advice, guidance, best practices, pitfalls to avoid, and words of wisdom would you share? Which values would you pass along? How would you do things differently? At which forks in life’s road would you steer the other way?
I was guided through this exercise recently, and it was profound.
I was a tennis player as a ten-year-old. Tennis was my life for a few years: My childhood house backs up to our country club, which is super convenient for practicing. Often, I’d be pounding a worn-out, sickly fuzz less ball against the practice wall at the furthest back courts. Before and after school, you would find me at the tennis club improving my serve, generating more topspin on my backhand, and running the lines to gain fitness, and on weekends, my family would pile in the car for a tournament in a nearby state.
Knowing my tennis background, my life coach recently walked me through a visualization to foster self-empathy as I work through some long-simmering issues that undoubtedly originated in my childhood. She had me picture myself at age ten, with a tennis racquet three quarters the size of my body, hitting on those back courts, pounding the ball again and again against that wall. She had me, in my current state — a 49-year-old man — walk on to that court and engage ten-year-old me.
Just that thought was powerful. Can you imagine your current self...engaging your ten-year-old self? I’ve never conceived of the thought. In my visualization, I am standing at the gate to enter the court, taking deep breaths, building courage to go drop knowledge while figuring out what exactly that knowledge is.
I walk out, introduce myself, and ask if I can offer words of wisdom.
We sit on a court bench. I reflect. I take a deep breath. Here’s what comes to mind:
Live life for yourself, not according to others’ expectations. (This is a big one for me.)
Fit out. Don’t fit in.
Embrace discomfort. That’s where the growth is.
Failure is really the First Attempt In Learning (FAIL).
Lead with joy. Keep reaching for it and don’t ever stop.
Inject fun into everything you do.
And, of course, use more topspin on that backhand.
As I formulated this scene, sitting comfortably on the couch in our basement office on a Friday morning— my feet on the floor, hands in lap, and my earbuds in, my coach’s voice piping in with the next direction — I cried. (Note: I don’t cry). Life is hard, and the thought of traveling back in time to help yourself out is...well, like releasing stress or tension.
That’s what this exercise accomplished. Releasing tension. And extending self-empathy. I connected and empathized with my younger self, recognizing that life is a journey — we learn, adapt, and grow.
I invite you to try this exercise, following these steps:
Dig up a picture of yourself as a young child, preferably one that reflects who you were and one you can empathize (playing, smiling, doing what you did).
Find a comfortable and quiet spot to sit.
Picture yourself as a child, doing something that you often did — shooting baskets, playing with toys, digging in the backyard, coloring, or writing. Whatever your activity was, visualize it in action.
Picture yourself today, entering this scene, with the intent to share words of wisdom. What comes to mind? What have you learned that you want to pass on? Why are these the lessons? Were they learned when you were a child — when you were that person you’re about to talk to?
When you’re ready, open your eyes, and write down all that you shared.
Reflect on that list. Which lessons are you applying today from that list? Which aren’t you? Pick one item and apply it.
What have you learned? Did you identify at least one lesson you can apply today that you want to live, but aren’t? This can be a deep exercise. Drop me a line if you want to discuss.