A letter from June 22nd, 2015 (Part 1)

Hi Danny, Imagine your surprise, delight, and horror upon finding this set of letters in your inbox while lying beside Jon at his Tita Helen's house in Lumban during our 2015 trip to the Philippines: {{{{{{{{ Dear FutureMe, On June 14, 2009 I received this email: {{{To FutureMe on the eve of graduating or, It's the End of Freshman Year am Stanford University, or on the eve of something completely different, It's a little hard starting this letter, knowing that three years from now I'm going to be reading it and seeing it as quiant or niave. My words, which I say in earnest now, will cause me to cringe and the seriousness of my past self. I will undoubtedly chuckle at how I once articulated my thoughts and thought about my life. I will find gramatical errors and spelling mistakes and other slippages that only time and perspective reveal. So future self, have sympathy, look kindly, you were once a past-self to another's future. So here's how it is with me now... It's 6:47 on Wednesday, June 14. I leave for Massachusetts at 4:00 am. I'm entirely packed. I only have to vacuum and clean a little bit more. So I'm here in Alondra 315 having just finished by last cup of FloMo frozen yogurt thinking about what the future will bring... or what I will bring to the future. Susie left about an hour ago. She was tearing up a little bit as she got in her cab. In the past few weeks there's been moments when I found myself looking forward to saying goodbye. In this relationship, I sometimes feel stifled and a little constrained. Sometimes I think we have different priorities, different tastes even. I've even thought that I couldn't marry Susie. But I love her. I love her. I worry that I don't let her know enough. I care about her. I was looking at pictures on the Facebook and found one of her. It caught me off guard I felt a little tinge of something. I look forward to her visit in July. I worry about the limitations of phone conversations. I look forward to the way things might be next year, and I want us to come back to campus with the same amount of affection we feel now. Mostly, I feel that being in a relationship is complicated there are so many aspects of my own personality that I have to get over and understand. But, in the rare, serene momen ts in my mind I find myself knowing, unquestionably, that I love her without complication. In terms of the Future (note the capital F), I know few things with certainty: -I want to help better the world however I can. Even if that process is a battle against unconquerable forces. -I want to be creative in the way I think and in the way I act. I want to create. I want art in my life. -I want to maintain my relationships. I want to maintain connections with the people who have passed through my existence. There's probably other things. I'm in a sedated, kind of serious mood right now, it's gray outside and I'm a little tired. So this is all kind of serious. If I was feeling a little bit more bouncy, I might make quirky predictions that you could enjoy in their accuracy or incorrectness. I guess I just worry that you will be more or less the same as I am now. This is a question I've been pondering lately. Does our identity or personality ever fundamentally change? Are we the same unaltered base for our whole lives? If I was a better existentialist, I'd understand that I choose to be the way I am. Personality is merely a construct to give existence an essence. I ******' love SLE. Anyways, sometimes I think the personality I have now is the personality I'll always have. Which isn't such a bad thing, he's really not such a bad guy... a little annoying sometimes. I'm tempted to give you advice to always allow yourself to be a little annoying sometimes. But that seems a little tacky. The future self is a lot like "the other." We examine ourselves through the eyes of our future self. Just something to think about. I'm sorry if this email is too vague, without any interesting tidbits about the daily facts of my life now that you will have probably forgotten at this point. There's just too much to record and retell. Maybe I could give you some key phrases to help you jog your memory: it's not the milk you seek it's the sun you need Buddha's hand citron the 315 soundtrack waiting for the CalTrain with Susie at Milbrae, we ate naan Coming up in the floor in a dark room in building 60. A janitor is outside. g(love) flove thinking the world do you want to know how I know that I love noseless kissing the white plastic ring on the door and teasing Susie inside 204 growing a manorah not liking Charlie's music Full Moon at the Mausoleum I going to make it through this year if it ***** me Some of these may be obscure. I apologize. Memory is obscure. Words don't do justice. The truth is I'm feeling exhausted. Thinking about the past and the future at the same time is a little trying. The most important this is that I am well. I look hopefully to the things you might be doing soon. May this long, rambling letter find you well. Your Friend, Past Self }}} Since also I graduated this morning with a BA from Stanford , I figured I should probably respond--er, forward. I hope you're well. I hope you still fundamentally like yourself and are pleased with the choices you've made in the post-Stanford-Shangri La world, in the scary economic landscape, in this big strange place known as the future. I spent most of the day not feeling happy with myself. It didn't help that I drank too much wine last night and woke up early with no time for coffee. (I assume I will forever be addicted to caffeine) But also, there's nothing like a huge university graduation, a tremendous amount of build up, pomp and circumstance to make you feel like you've done absolutely nothing worthwhile. I am haunted by a persistent feeling of not having fully utilized my time here. There are no honors attached to my name, no prizes, no awards. I'm just Daniel Jay Hirsch with a Bachelor of Arts in American Studies. I hate that this bothers me. I hope you're not preoccupied with this stuff... But I imagine you might be. This is a hard habit to kick, but do your best. I've been trying to keep Dan Klein in mind today: Dare to be dull. Nothing great ever comes from trying to be great. Be nice to your family, keep your friendships going, try to connect. I wish I hadn't been so tired earlier and had to split up with the family. I wish I could be a better brother, son, step-son, step brother. I wish I had been more enthusiastic seeing Jack last night, that I was going to his family's barbecue later tonight. I have a sneaking suspicion that these are the things that matter the most in the end... or so somebody mentioned in one of the many speeches I've heard in the last 48 hours. That's what Eddie said his greatest mistake was, too much focus on his career and not enough on family. I hope you're being honest with yourself, that you're allowing yourself to love and be vulnerable. Time is an incredible thing, you had coffee with Susie and Anthony (her new boyfriend) and Maggie and Matthew. So, don't be afraid to get hurt, to move forward without thinking, just moving. Do what is most obvious. Robert Sapolsky said good things in his class day lecture. Namely: we are not that different from apes; human beings have an incredible capacity to delay pleasure; being educated often means shirking from doing the impossible tasks that make us human. We turn away from the Absurd chore of making meaning in our lives, of showing real compassion for other people, even the most detestable. It's been a weird and really challenging year. But I've made it through it okay. It's been a weird and challenging four years, but really I think I feel mostly okay with it. If things are weird and challenging to you know, take heart. This week I'm off to Sonoma County to find an apartment and hopefully a car. I haven't been scared about this for awhile. But as it approaches I realize how terrified I am of having [more] complete ownership of my own life. I hope you're doing a little bit better with this. I wish you nothing but happiness on this day. Daniel Jay Hirsch 4:15 on Sunday, June 14, 2009 from the first floor room of Kairos House Stanford, CA }}}} I'm currently formulating the 28-year-old's response to all this. Check your inbox tomorrow. Hopefully gmail is still a thing in 2026. love, Danny in 2015