Advice to My 20 Year Old Self

A meme I've noticed making the rounds recently is "Things I Would Tell My Younger Self."

As fascinating as this little thought experiment might be, I long ago realized that alerting my younger self to any of the myriad major things I might wish to warn him about—assuming he would even listen—would ultimately fundamentally change the course of my life, and as much as I bitch and complain about aspects of it at times, I wouldn't change it for the world.

So to prevent any major life alterations—as much as I might want to tell him to buy a thousand dollars worth of Apple stock in July 1982 and hold onto it no matter what, if I had to offer up advice, I'd ask him to only do three things:

• Do not toss out the notebooks of classic audio gear brochures he collected in the late 1970s, because he'll want them someday to remind himself that audio equipment wasn't always black plastic crap—and if nothing else, they'll be worth a lot of money.
• Do not toss out any of his architectural drawings. I know they're a pain in the ass to move, but trust me…he'll want them someday to remind himself that he actually once knew how a house went together.
• Do not give the notebooks of Hallcraft floor plans and renderings he collected into Dad's care. He'll just throw them out, and someday he'll will want them to scan and post on a website. Never mind he doesn't understand what those words mean. He will soon enough.

Because in the area of things, these are the only items he will regret no longer possessing.

Health issues, jobs, friends, and love affairs…just let them unfold on their own. Own the scars. Each and every one of them will put him on the course that will ultimately lead him into Ben's arms, and when that time comes, he wouldn't want to change that for the world.