In search of joie de vivre // to-do list poem

happiness; map

on a wall letter to my future self

*citations can be found on page 25

To a version of myself I haven’t yet met — “I have made up my mind to live happily, feeling beautiful beneath the trees”

— Lucy Dacus

I know what I want in my future.

I have grand dreams of saving the world and making my voice matter and being an advocate and a scientist and a leader. I can’t say that I don’t want that. In some ways, I want that more than anything; to feel fulfilled and to be a part of something bigger than myself and to know that I existed for something, and that I will have made an imprint on the world such that the memory of who I am does not fade forever from the world. But when I look to my future, I know that to put those expectations on myself will only lead me to disaster. So here is what I want:

I want moments of laughter and belonging. Around a bonfire. In an intense discussion about Marvel’s “The Avengers.” in the arms of a friend.

I want my fingers to spark with creativity that does not go to waste. I want to write, even if it is just for myself. Especially if it is just for myself. I want to write, and create, and feel the magic of the world in myself, and harness it for something.

I want to hold on to the little pieces of the world that make me the happiest -- reading a good book. Crocheting. Wearing flannel and knock-off Doc Martens. Having picnics and dancing to Taylor Swift and walking down city streets.

I want to have mornings spent out in nature, with crisp dew on the grass and brisk blue in the skies. I want to hike up a mountain and see a green, glorious valley spread out beneath my feet.

I want to maintain a close relationship with my sister, and with the rest of my family, even if the miles divide us. I want to still have the people I love in my life, and while I know some people will fade out of my life, I want to still carry the people that matter most in my heart.

I want to have a voice that is heard, whether it is only by my closest friends or by a crowd of thousands. I want to be seen as worthy to my humanity and my opinions, and to contribute my voice to something, anything, no matter how small.

Future self, here is my message to you:

I hope you are finding happiness in the world around you. I hope that there are little pieces of joy in every day you have, and that you have people you love and people that love you.

With that in mind, I hope you know it’s okay if you aren’t happy all the time. It’s okay if some days are sad and some days you can’t get out of bed. Just as long as you wake up each morning and decide that there is something in the world that is worth living for, it’ll be okay.

I hope you know it’s okay if you

aren’t changing the world the way you want to, or if even just staying on top of things and getting work done is out of reach. Your worth is not determined by your productivity.

I hope you know if it’s okay if the things I used to base my self-worth on aren’t happening anymore. I hope you know that we can, and should, evolve, and sometimes that evolution will not be in a manner that we initially thought we would.

More than anything, I hope you know that I’m proud of you, no matter what. I’m proud of you if we’ve accomplished every dream I’ve ever had and more. I’m proud of you if your life looks completely different than anything I ever thought my future would hold. I’m proud of you even if you’ve failed at everything you’ve tried to do, even if you’re so burnt out that you can’t imagine moving forward. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you, and I’m sure your future self is too.

With all my love, 17-year-old Natalie

In search of

joie de vivre to-do list poem

Take a walk past midnight in a city, with the thrill of a risk and the chill of night and fog. Gaze up at

city lights, towering high above in skyscrapers that seem to brush the sky.

Pile into a too-crowded car with friends and take a winding, wandering road trip through a

scrapbook of future memories

Run through ocean waves in the dead of winter and night, heightened by just enough adrenaline to

keep from succumbing to the cold, and feeling more alive than ever before

Lay in a cottage-core worthy rustic meadow and paint imaginary shapes onto the clouds

Bury my nose in a riveting book, surrounded by the scent of old books in a bibliophile’s haven, a

perfectly eccentric hidden gem of a bookstore or library