Blenheim’s Hall of Mirrors

I’ve had this “thing” all my life, but didn’t really think much of it until I was 28.

I was just standing in my new room, in my new apartment, in Los Angeles, when all of a sudden it was like standing in a hall of mirrors. You know the concept, seeing rows of yourself going off into the distance. Except this was different, very different.

To my left was me every seven years… 21… 14… 7…

I suddenly remembered that moment from seven years prior, then quickly looked to my right…

35… 42… 49… and beyond.

What seemed like eternity was but a mere moment, and it was gone.

I asked around, but nobody I knew had ever heard or experienced anything like it.

So I went about living my life.

Until I turned 35… and could see myself standing there in that room, staring back at me.

Ahh, that explains why 35 looked so confused when I saw me from 28.

We both looked towards 42 for the answers, only to be more confused.

I couldn’t see beyond my 60s and heard a message. It was simple, but it seemed important… until it was gone.

It left me shook, but curious.

What was that? A time wave… a rip in the space time continuum?

It wasn’t until 49 that the “end” became clearer.

I’m walking up a set of stairs. The wall to my right was yellow, and beyond that was the distinct yellow stone of Blenheim Palace.

I trip and pause for a moment. The voice of a friend says, “Are you OK?”

Picking myself up, I smile and reply, “Yes, I’ll be OK.”

We’re often asked, when having a philosophical discussion, “What would you say to your younger self, if you could?”

Would you say, “Buy Amazon” or “Bitcoin”? That would make any sense to your younger self.

Would you say, “I love you”?

That’s nice, but is that really helpful?

For me, in that brief, brief moment (it really only lasts a few seconds), the message is as simple as it sounded the first time.

“You’ll be OK.”

No matter what happens, good, bad, or indifferent, whatever trials, tribulations, or triumphs you’ll go through… it’ll all be OK.

I got it… and it really helped through the toughest challenges I had to face at 56, in 2018.

There were two things that I didn’t understand at the time.

By 56, I knew that the one who asked was “David. “… I just assumed it was my lifelong friend from NY. I just didn’t know why we’d be in England together (though I loved the idea).

Secondly, I didn’t know why it was going to end after the next cycle.

Was I going to die in my 60s? That didn’t make sense, add i also had a different vision of me much older.

It took several more years until the answer came to me… it ends at the beginning. It stops because I’m the one who sends the message back.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes, I’ll be OK.”

I didn’t know at the time that David would be someone I would know all my life, but only meet two years earlier.

It just made sense now.

So I was pleased when he accepted my invitation to Blenheim. He didn’t understand why, but I’m glad he went with it.

I also saw myself explaining it all afterward, in one of the great halls.

It didn’t play out like that exactly.

That’s the funny thing about time… we can still change it while we’ve got it.

As I approached the yellow stairs, with the yellow wall near that yellow palace, I smiled. “Hello, my friend,” I thought to myself.