an interesting possibility; to be able to pick up a book and read about your life. reading about the past is one thing. but reading about my future scares me a little bit.
abraham lincoln once said “the best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time”, and i believe there is so much truth and so much power in that statement. i don’t ever want to live for potentially unfulfilled expectations. think about how differently each one of us interprets what we read (take the BIBLE, for example). what happens if i read about the 30th year of my life and i think it is going to be one of the worst years. when that years comes around, however, i may be surprised at the hidden excellence – excellence that simply couldn’t or wasn’t portrayed in my life’s novel. but i will have wasted my time during my earlier years, anxious for that terrible, horrible, no good very bad year. and that would be unfortunate.
and then again, reading about the past kind of scares me too. what would my past look like on paper? would my accomplishments be great ones, would my failures be inexcusable? would it read just like i had lived it? would i be dumbfounded by the simplicity of my daily tasks?
so many questions arise from the potential to be able to read my life’s story: how many pages would it be? would it be a comedy, a romance novel, a mystery book or just a simple biography? who are the main characters 2 years from now, 5 years from now, 10 years from now? will it be one long novel or should it be broken up into a series of four or five? does each chapter cover a year of time? how does it end?
and most importantly: would anyone else want to read it? i sure hope so.
frankly, i believe all of that should be left as a mystery.