Notes to My Younger Self

Inspired, as so often, by my friend Katy I wanted to write down some of the useful things I would have liked my younger self (I’m thinking teenager, student) to know and which I could now impart – but of course can’t until such time as someone perfects time travel. In fact some of these things I still have to learn properly.
In no particular order …

  • You are right, ballroom dancing is the work of the Devil and you do well to scorn it. Likewise ballet, opera theatre, film and mainstream classical music, while not works of the Devil, are best avoided if one is to retain any sanity.
  • No, you never will be able to do practical things like drawing, woodwork and plumbing. Just be glad you can pay someone to do it for you.
  • You will rediscover books and reading.
  • Yes, cats are magic.
  • Bucking the usual trend you become more socialist as you get older.
  • Your parents were right: sugar really is bad for you. But they were wrong in asserting that chocolate and cheese cause acne.
  • No, you still won’t have a clue what you’re doing, where you’re headed, or why. You will drift along.
  • You never will be fashionable, cool or handsome. And you don’t care if people think you’re either stupid or eccentric. Those that matter, don’t mind; those that mind, don’t matter.
  • Your father was right: God is bunk.
  • Being kind and compassionate is good. But no-one said it was always easy.
  • You will never regret eating (good) chips. But they do need salt, and vinegar, tomato ketchup or mayonnaise. In fact you’ll never regret eating good food.
  • Yes, you can believe six impossible (and contradictory) things before breakfast.
  • However hard you try, and however much you enjoy playing, you will never be good at ball games. It’s a matter of basic lack of athleticism and poor hand-eye co-ordination.
  • Try anything twice, the second time to be sure your first impressions were correct. Regrettably this means no one-night stands.
  • Yes, beer will be your downfall.
  • You’ll remain a dull, introverted, frightened, small boy who needs recognition and to be in control. This is not failure, it is what you are – or rather what your dysfunctional father made you. You do not need to be like this; life is hard enough already. You’re in the top few percent intellectually and could go far if you develop some more self-confidence.
  • Learn not to be so perfectionist. Yes it is what a research scientist needs, but in other spheres “good enough” is usually good enough.
  • Anger is destructive; excitement, panic and worry are all overrated entertainments. Learn to let stuff wash over you sooner rather than later. And don’t worry about things you have no control over. Measured calmness is prescribed.
  • You’ll never do enough, or the right things, to satisfy your father. Ignore him. Be confident enough to call his bluff. If he doesn’t like it, that’s his problem, not yours. It’s your life, not his.
  • You never will make friends easily and throughout life you’ll have very few. But those friends you do have will be influential and formative.
  • Do not be in awe of people “above” you. They’re human too – just as fallible but able to talk a better game.
  • Treat other people as you would like them to treat you, with respect and courtesy. If you treat people as you’d like them to be, you give them the space (and incentive) to grow; treat them as they are and they’ll stay that way.
  • You don’t have to believe in any god(s) to be moral. Morality comes from within and knowing what is just and compassionate.
  • Things happen when they happen, and for a reason. You don’t have to be a fatalist, but maybe you shouldn’t push back too hard either – although you should stand up for what you believe to be right.
  • You will change you mind, ideas and beliefs over time. This is good; it means you’re thinking about things.
  • It does get better.