Yesterday I talked about the practice of leaving presents for future-me.

And Larisa told this awesome story in the comments about how her brother used to throw fistfuls of Jolly Ranchers into the backseat of the car to discover later.

Exactly. Like that!

There are so many marvelous surprises that we can hide for later.

What kind of presents and surprises?

Presents and surprises for future-me can be small or large.

They can be really obvious. Or things that might not even be noticed.

Maybe she’ll trip over them and then say ohhhhhhhhhhh, got it.

1. Words and qualities.

Sometimes I go a few months ahead in the calendar and I write a word on a day. Any day.

Like REJUVENATION.

Or AUTONOMY.

Or TRUST.

It’s planting a day that is full of the essence of that. And then when she sees it, slightly-future-me will have a flash of remembering.

She’ll know what it means. Or she’ll find out.

We have a colorful wall of words and qualities at the Playground in the Refueling Station.

I like to sit in the rainbow hammock and breathe in the words. Me-who-is-arriving-in-a-few-weeks is even better at taking time for that.

In fact, she’ll probably know why the word I chose for her is important — and she’ll know it in ways that I am not yet able to understand.

She’ll also know why that day was the right one, and then we’ll giggle over it together.

2. Experiences.

Booking her a massage for before and after Rally (Rally!).

Scheduling secret artist dates for her at her favorite cafes.

Buying a giant box of crayons just for her.

Sending a postcard to my uncle to tell him she’s going to visit him and hide out in the woods with his dogs.

3. Reminders.

Mailing her postcards with coded messages.

Putting things where she’ll see them.

Flowers.

Planting presents for the next two weeks.

Things are going to be busy and amazing for me-who-is-arriving.

She is teaching Crossing the Line, which is an eight day retreat. That’s a lot of work, and also a lot of batshit crazy life-changingly great epiphanies that she’ll be having, what will all the shivanauttery.

She’s going to need spaciousness and time. Love and support.

What can I do to make things easier on her?

  • Use secret agent code words to set up a rendezvous with Liz.
  • Flowers and love notes in her dressing room.
  • Everything she doesn’t need to deal with can go into a box and be put in the office she won’t be using.
  • Give her a small tactile reminder of who she is. Maybe a necklace from her friend’s Etsy shop?
  • A list of reminders.
  • A round with the First Mate to review.

Play with me!

Self-practice and the giant communal and commenting blanket fort.

We’re leaving presents for future-us. Yay!

What could we maybe-possibly-theoretically-if-we-wanted-to plant now for later?

Usual comment zen applies. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for what’s ours, we let other people have what’s theirs.

We make this a safe space to play by not giving each other advice (unless people ask) and by paying attention to what we need.

Also: we can declare Silent Retreat whenever we feel like it, dammit.

Kisses.

The Fluent Self