Dear Dusty,

I started wondering what if would be like to get letters from future me. I thought of the pleasure and convenience of receiving instructions, warnings, and hints about what was coming my way. It would take out all of the guesswork, the unforeseen disappointments, and surprise gut shots that life has a tendency to throw in one's path. How would it feel to know what was around the next corner and be braced and ready for it when it came? To know not not to try to ride your bike with no handlebars, that that girl will only break your heart, and that you would make your best friends at college.
I thought about wise old me, about to die, finishing the instruction book for my life. It would read like an autobiography, telling the story of me. I would have taken a red pen though, and edited the parts I wish I could have changed, and with a green pen, circled my favorite parts. The margins would be filled with notes and warnings written by myself to myself, a careful guide to make my life perfect. I would sign the inside of the cover to make sure I knew it was from me, because I knew that I would trust myself. I would seal the book in a manila envelope addressed to myself decades before and send it off.
Or would I? Wise old me would heft the book filled envelope, testing its weight. Decisions lay heavy on all of us, but a life of decisions made for us is even heavier. The postage would be ridiculous.
I got a letter from myself today. It was a single sheet of paper, with only one written line. It read......

Dear Dusty,

Enjoy the Ride.

Dusty