Ten Years Wiser ✨ Soothing Story

What would your future self tell you if you met them today? Grab a warm drink and join Lynz for a cozy, comforting reflection on a transformative beach meditation from ten years ago—a journey that completely shattered her ideas about aging, perfectionism, and what is possible.

If you are currently feeling lost, putting yourself under immense pressure to have a "magazine-worthy" life, or wearing yourself to the bone at work, this episode is a gentle invitation to stop, take a deep breath, and let your shoulders drop.

In this episode, we wander through:

• The Voices in Our Head: Meeting "Inner Tolula"—the anxious, sensitive, and questioning voices that keep us safe but sometimes keep us small.
• The Beach Meditation: Overcoming the fear of a "too woo-woo" practice to meet an older, wilder, and happier version of oneself.
• The Relief of a Messy Home: Realizing that a future filled with messy books, worn cushions, and homemade chocolate holds far more comfort than perfection ever could.
• A Glimpse of the Creative Future: The stunning, unexpected sight of a pristine workspace filled with microphones, recording software, and books with Lynz’s own name on the spine.
• The Final Message: Returning to the real world with a symbolic gift tucked away in the heart, ready for when the time is right.

If a friend came to mind while you were listening, please share this episode with them. It really helps this little calm and crazy corner of the world grow.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:03

Hello there, my name is Linz, and welcome to my little calm and crazy corner of the world. A space where we can cozy up together and just be. I'm a slice of life storyteller. I wonder about the messy business of being human, of living in our own skin, living with others, navigating this wild life and living with loss. Some stories will soothe, some might bring a tear to your eyes, and some I hope will make you smile inside. You can listen anytime, anywhere, whether you're driving the car, snuggled on the sofa, or listening to this as a bedtime story before you close your eyes. If you find comfort in my words, there are ways we can get to know each other better. You'll find all the information and links you need in the description. And if a friend comes to mind while you're listening, please do share this with them. But right here, right now, this is your time. Your time to put life down for a while. Take a deep breath and let yourself rest. Ten years wiser. I'm most grateful for the wise old voice in my head. A calm reassurance that has developed over time. Don't get me wrong, I still have a confused voice, an anxious voice, a voice that questions every decision, a voice that's too much and not enough at the same time. A sensitive voice that doesn't want me to get hurt. Those voices I call my inner Tolula. I will introduce you to her one day. Years ago, ten years ago from now, in fact, I can remember doing a meditation. It was designed to help you meet your older self and ask them questions. I was always a bit dubious about these sorts of things, naturally inclined to think they were a bit too woo-woo, or maybe I didn't quite believe in such things. Or if I'm really honest, maybe I was scared of the answers. In for a penny, I thought, so I give it a go. I lay on my bed, put my headphones on, and closed my eyes. Then came the guide's voice. He drifted in deep and rhythmic, easing the tension out of my mind like a good firm shoulder rub until the bedroom faded into the background of my awareness. After the relaxation, he said, Imagine a public place. This will be where you meet your older self. Trust they will come, no need to try too hard. In my mind's eye, I arrived on a beach, not a soul in sight, just vast sands of golden yellow and clear blue horizons that both went on forever. As I looked towards the ocean, the sun sat dead centre, bright with a soft golden glow around the edges. It was the first time I realized how colour coordinated nature could be. In my real life, in the midlands, we're surrounded by multi shades of green that meet the exact blue sky. But this place was different. It felt intentional, free from the day-to-day clutter of thinking. That soothing voice in my headphones instructed me to turn around and meet my older self. I remember thinking, yeah, okay, mate, she won't be there. But Blimey, there she was. She stood tall and strong, wearing a long red summer dress that met her bare feet. She had wild curly hair down past her shoulders, with only a hint of strawberry bronze streaked through the ends, holding the memories of her younger years, and a proper bit of mischief in her eyes, which matched with the biggest smile I've ever seen. Her brightly tattooed arms were open wide, ready to embrace me as an old friend, though at that point she was a stranger to me. I can't remember if we hooked, perhaps I was hesitant, but I will never forget the first time our eyes locked. She just looked so happy, so free, so easy going. If there's such a thing as aura's, hers would have been yellow and gold, like the sun. It was quite a welcome contrast to my real life, muddy brown aura. Then a little girl peeked out from behind her cotton dress. She froze, caught me looking, and darted right back behind the wise woman in front of me. I didn't actually fully recognise her until years later. That little bundle of energy was my younger self, waiting for her turn to be understood. The deep velvety voice in my headphones encouraged me to ask her to show me her life. I could feel that familiar hesitance in my body, the same heavy feeling I had lying on my bed, wanting some guidance but afraid of the answers. The first thing she did was a handstand. I figured she was about sixty odd, so I was very impressed and slightly perplexed as to why this was the entry point to her lifestyle. I wasn't here for playtime. I wanted serious answers to my serious questions, some guidance to my lostness, but I thought, okay, just let her get it out of her system. Once she'd found her feet, older Lynns took me towards the rock face, away from the beach. I felt the warm sun shifting between my toes, grounding me with every step. She led me up the man-made steps in the stone towards a small beach house, one story high. In the driveway sat a campervan nestled amongst lush costal plants. Inside it was small, an open plan living area. To the left was a corner sofa with well worn, comfortable cushions, a guitar resting nearby, and notepads and a stack full of messy books. My older self was clearly content with being a bit messy, and honestly, my shoulders dropped about two inches just looking at it. I'd been putting myself under so much pressure to be perfect, but looking at her, I just wanted to flop on those warm cushions, shove the messy books out of the way, and breathe. My future didn't need to be a magazine worthy home to be happy. In the small kitchen, to the right she made chocolate. There were bags of cacao, chocolate moulds, giant major dates, jars of peanut butter, and a gigantic jug of sticky maple syrup. I sense she enjoyed doing this for people. Chocolate is the way to my heart, so it made perfect sense to me. Then older Lynns took me to her workspace. As she opened the door I held my breath. What did she do for a living? The fear of a corporate laptop, of a certificate of accountancy hanging on beige walls caught my throat. Actually, it was quite the opposite. The walls were pristine white, contrasted by a deep thick grey pile carpet. I swear my toes sank six inches into it. Hanging on the walls were pictures of colourful humans, all shapes and sizes, looking free and wild, smiling and laughing, embracing and dancing. Stunned into stillness my eyes drank in the shelves of books, all with my names on the spine. There was a recording station, a writing station, a freestanding microphone with a sheet music stand next to it. Right in the middle of it was a laptop, open, with recording software glowing on the screen. She was obviously mid creation. I couldn't really make sense of what I was looking at. Maybe I'd misunderstood, and this was her playroom. As a massage therapist who wore her knuckles to the bone every single day. The possibility of I dunno, writing and singing was an impossibility to me. In my reality, I won't have been able to fathom how to use something like that or have a life that wasn't really hard work. As we left this simple home that felt more like home than any of my homes have ever felt, day had turned into night. Step by step we walked back down to the sand. Through the dusk, a bonfire blazed, surrounded by people, an evening air of carefreeness. Then the music started. George Michael's voice came drifting over the dunes. Freedom, rich and warm, mixing with the crackles of the flames. Joyful people were swinging and clinking bottles of bud, dancing, hugging, and laughing in the firelight. As they caught sight of olderlyns, they began to sing her name, jumping in glee, waving her over, delighted to see her. Mr Party Pooper, with a silky smooth voice in my headphones, asked me to ask her if she had a message for me. Ah damn it, I didn't want to come back. I begrudgingly asked, and she handed me the laptop from her workroom. She told me to tuck it away in my heart, as I will need it at some point soon. With a nod and a suspicious side eye, I did as she requested. Mr Bossy's smooth voice asked me to say goodbye. So I allowed myself to fade into the sand and back into my body with her laptop and absolutely no idea what she wanted me to do with it. I've been back there to the beach many times over the years. We've gotten to know each other and have made friends with my younger self, who's more forthright with her instruction. The older me, less so. Every time I asked her what the laptop was for, she'd simply reply You'll know when you know. Her voice no longer sits in my visualizations, she's part of my inner dialogue now, the voice behind many of my stories, the wiser ones I write that I don't feel like I fit the job description for just yet. I sit here every day behind my ten year old laptop, and I'm writing her heart out. So I guess I know a bit more about what I didn't know back then. It took ten years of blind faith, tens of thousands of words spilling out through my fingertips, and a consistent wonder of what it's like for us all to be human. I'm still unaware of the full picture, but that's okay. I can wait for the next step to unfold. She's taught me the true value of patience, hope and wonder. As for the handstand, oh yeah, I nearly forgot. I know how to do them now. It's my little way of keeping young, and maybe, just maybe, it's how I stay in touch with that energetic little version of me who was hiding behind the dress, who I feel like I'm ready to get to know better. All she ever wanted to do was make the world a better place, and words meant everything to her. And with that, we gently bring today's story to a close and step back into the present. Thank you so much for sharing this little pocket of time with me today. It really does mean the world to have you here in my corner. Whether you're wrapping yourself up for sleep now or gently picking life back up, remember to take a breath. Be kind to yourself and let the rest unfold. Take care of yourself, and I'll speak to you soon.