Thursday, July 2, 2026

Your Future Self Is A Stranger... For Now


 

One of the strangest things about life is that we're constantly interacting with versions of ourselves that don't exist anymore and versions of ourselves that don't exist yet.

Yesterday's you is gone.

Tomorrow's you hasn't arrived.

Yet both of them influence your life every single day.

Think about it.

You wake up in the morning and your lunch is already packed.

Your clothes are already laid out.

The gas tank is full.

The dishes are done.

The bill has already been paid.

The appointment has already been scheduled.

In that moment, you don't always say it out loud, but you're thinking:

"Man, I'm glad I took care of that yesterday."

Past-you just did present-you a favor.

We've all experienced it.

We've also experienced the opposite.

You wake up late.

The gas tank is nearly empty.

The laundry isn't done.

The sink is full of dishes.

The bill is due today.

The paperwork you needed wasn't printed.

Now your entire day starts with unnecessary stress.

And the funny thing is that it almost feels like somebody else caused the problem.

Because in a way, somebody did.

Yesterday's version of you.

So close, yet so far away.

One of my favorite ways to think about this is that every day we're sending something to our future selves.

Sometimes it's a care package.

Sometimes it's a time bomb.

Filling the gas tank before you get home.

Care package.

Putting money into savings.

Care package.

Meal prepping for the week.

Care package.

Going for a walk.

Care package.

Calling a friend you've been meaning to check on.

Care package.

Ignoring a problem that you know isn't going away.

Time bomb.

Putting off the oil change.

Time bomb.

Avoiding the difficult conversation.

Time bomb.

Spending money you don't have.

Time bomb.

Skipping every workout because you'll "start next week."

Time bomb.

Never eating pickles because they're the worst thing ever.

Universal care package that everyone should send themselves.

Did pickles just catch a stray right there?

More like "A Direct".

Every day we're making deposits or withdrawals from a future account that eventually comes due.

The interesting thing is that most people would never intentionally make life harder for someone they care about.

Yet we do it to ourselves all the time.

Not because we're bad people.

Not because we're lazy.

But because the consequences are delayed.

If skipping one workout instantly added twenty pounds, nobody would skip the workout.

If spending money recklessly immediately showed up as an empty retirement account, people would think twice.

If neglecting friendships instantly caused loneliness, we'd all make more phone calls.

The delay creates the illusion that there is no cost.

But there is always a cost.

The bill just arrives later.

And that's where life can be deceptive.

We tend to imagine that our future will be shaped by huge decisions.

The reality is that most of our lives are shaped by tiny decisions repeated over and over again.

Nobody becomes financially secure because of one deposit.

Nobody becomes unhealthy because of one dessert.

Nobody builds a strong friendship because of one conversation.

Nobody grows in faith because of one prayer.

Nobody masters a skill because of one practice session.

Most outcomes are simply the result of small actions compounded over time.

Little choices.

Repeated often.

That's all.

One small step at a time.

And yet those little choices eventually become our reality.

The person who spends ten minutes cleaning up before bed is doing a favor for tomorrow morning.

The person who fills their water bottle before they need it is doing a favor for tomorrow afternoon.

The person who sets aside money every paycheck is doing a favor for a future version of themselves they may not meet for decades.

The person who has a disciplined routine, which can come in many forms, such as someone who prays, who exercises, who learns, who saves, and who invests in relationships is building a life one small brick at a time.

The bricks don't seem important when you're holding them.

But eventually they become a house.

That's the part I think we often forget.

We talk about our future selves as though they're strangers.

As though they're some distant person we'll worry about later.

But eventually later arrives.

Eventually tomorrow becomes today.

The future self you've been helping—or neglecting—becomes the person staring back at you in the mirror.

The person saving for retirement eventually becomes the retiree.

The person investing in their health eventually becomes the older adult living with those choices.

The person nurturing friendships eventually becomes the person surrounded by people who care.

The person writing a weekly blog can now look back on them and be happy that he started doing these again.

Or the person wondering where everybody went.

Tomorrow's problems have a funny way of becoming today's reality.

That's why I think one of the most useful questions we can ask ourselves isn't:

"What do I feel like doing right now?"

It's:

"What kind of person am I being to my future self?"

Am I leaving behind solutions?

Or am I leaving behind problems?

Am I voluntarily eating olives because I want to?

Or have olives tricked many of you into thinking they're actually good?

Am I sending care packages?

Or am I sending time bombs?

Is it death by a thousand cuts, or is it healing by a thousand stitches?

Because every decision we make is a message to our future selves.

Some messages say:

"I was thinking about you."

Others say:

"Good luck. You're on your own."

The beautiful thing is that we don't need to change our entire lives overnight.

Most of the time, the answer isn't some massive transformation.

It's doing one small thing today that makes tomorrow a little easier.

Fill the gas tank.

Make the phone call.

Put the money aside.

Go for the walk.

Say the prayer.

Wash the dishes.

Send the text.

Ask the question.

Pursue the friendship.

Take care of the thing you've been putting off.

Because someday you'll become the future self you've been making decisions for all along.

And when that day comes, I hope you're grateful for the choices you made on their behalf.

It's never too late to stop eating terrible foods too.

As always folks, thanks for taking the time to read this!

Until next week!