I first got the idea to write Future Letters (in place of New Year Resolutions) after reading Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy back in 1999. I’ve been writing Future Letters ever since.
Although, I have to admit, at first I thought it sounded a little nuts. But I gave it a shot because, thanks to Simple Abundance, I’d adopted the habit of keeping a gratitude journal. I’d noticed some pretty big changes after doing that so I figured if she was extolling the virtues of Future Letters too, what did it hurt to try?
I think Ban Breathnach just wrote them to herself, but I opted to write them to Spirit. The concept of Spirit was something else she introduced me to. I don’t necessarily subscribe to the concept of an organized religious version of God, but I do believe in a higher power at work in the universe. I settled on calling that Spirit.
As far as crafting Future Letters (to Spirit), Ban Breathnach gave some tips on how to do it. In addition to quieting the mind and stilling the soul, it’s also important to pick a time when you can write uninterrupted and undisturbed. Writing while basking in a candle’s glow with a favorite cup of tea or another favorite beverage to sip in between paragraphs is also soul-pampering. Something else I often enjoy is a favorite treat to indulge in afterward.
As a result, Future Letters are one of my most sacred and precious end-of-year rituals.
I always liked making resolutions, too, but, like most people, I usually never kept any because I was either too unrealistic, ambitious, or both.
The second I started my first one, Future Letters felt different. More potent and full of promise with a magical introspection at play.
And, yet, for many years, there was also always a bit of a failed resolution, I-let-myself-down aspect to them too when I’d re-read them at the end of the year. (Because reviewing them is also key. In fact, I try to re-read them a few times during the year to keep myself on track.)
But I often noticed with dismay that things I “predicted” in my letters didn’t come true.
That’s because it took me a long time to appreciate I can’t control the outcomes, just the output. And how I want to feel.
For instance, for the first few years, I’d always have grand aspirations. I was not only going to finish such and such a novel in progress and land an agent, but I would procure a huge advance because my book was destined for the bestseller list.
Yeah. Almost all of that is out of my control. The only thing I had control of was finishing the book and searching for an agent.
Future Letters are meant to manifest things you want to happen, but they’re not a magic wand to making your heart’s desires come true. And, yet, at the same time, they are a tool to do just that.
What I realized and have strived to do for the last few years now is to picture how I want to feel at the end of the coming year rather than listing every wish I’d love to come true.
Sure, there are things I hope to accomplish, and I note that in my letters. But I no longer try to control the outcome.
Rather, I put it out there what I want to do, and then I let that unfold how it will.
Letters these days are more about visualizing feeling happier, healthier, successful, etc, in the New Year and what I did to bring me more of that. Then I write about how I spent the year pursuing more travel, reading more books, walking more, playing pickleball more often, writing X amount of time a day, etc.
What I find is that I accomplish a lot more by envisioning my goals this way. I also avoid feeling that Failed Resolution Despair that inevitably happens at some point in the New Year when writing the old fashioned lists.
What about you? Do you write Future Letters, make resolutions or have some other New Year rituals you engage in for manifesting your ambitions?