Look ten years ahead. Do you like what you see?

I once heard someone say the most accurate health predictor isn’t your DNA, your diet, or your doctor. It’s regret.

Your body doesn’t need a scan to show you where you’re heading. It leaves clues. The sigh when you stand up. The stiff knee on the stairs. The way your tea goes tepid while you scroll, promising yourself “just five more minutes.” That’s not nothing. That’s future you, leaving warnings in the present.

But here’s the trick: we treat time like a subscription service. Unlimited renewals. Free trial forever. Until one day you wake up and realise the contract has already expired. Decline doesn’t arrive like lightning. It creeps in quietly, brick by brick, through the choices we call harmless.

And the truth is, most of us are already rehearsing our regrets. I should have moved more. I should have stopped at two glasses. I should have gone to bed instead of scrolling under that blue glow. We know the lines by heart, and yet we keep rehearsing anyway.

Here’s the part that stings: this year isn’t a warm-up. These weeks are not disposable. Ten years from now, you’ll either thank the version of you sitting here reading this or curse them.

Regret doesn’t need to be your prison. It can be your compass. But only if you let it change what you carve into your days.

So let me leave you with the question I’ve been carrying: If your future self was watching right now, what would they beg you to stop rehearsing?

Big promises don’t count. Proof is built from chisels, tools, rituals, and reminders that hold when your discipline slips.

Here are this week’s 3 Finds to help you carve proof, not excuses:

Each week, I’ll share 3 things that have genuinely helped me, small shifts across the three pillars of ConfigurSelf: mindset, habits, and health. The kind of things that have made a real difference in my own life, and that I’d happily recommend to a close friend.

There’s a site called FutureMe.org. You write a letter to yourself today, choose a date in the future, a year, five years, or even ten, and the site emails it back to you when the time comes. It sounds simple, almost too simple. But it’s one of the most confronting things I’ve ever done.

When I first started my weight loss journey, I wrote my one-year letter. When it landed in my inbox, I wasn’t ready. The very first line I’d written was: “Please don’t quit this time.” Reading that back after twelve months, knowing I hadn’t quit, I broke down. I cried, not out of sadness, but because I was proud. The woman I had written to in desperation was now staring back at me in the mirror.

After that, I went bigger. A five-year letter. A ten-year letter. Each one stretched me further, gave me a bigger vision, and something beautiful to look forward to. Those letters are now anchors. Proof that the future isn’t random. It’s something you can negotiate with, send messages to, and then walk toward.

It isn’t magic. But it’s the closest thing I know to time travel.

Send one this week: one year, five years, ten. Let future-you write back.

Two years ago, I bought a red light mask. At first, it felt a bit ridiculous, sitting in my kitchen glowing like Iron Man. But it’s one of the few “fancy” tools I’ve stayed loyal to. I still use it, and I swear by it.

Here’s why: red and near-infrared light (around 630–850 nm) penetrate the skin and reach the mitochondria, the little engines in our cells. That light literally helps them make more energy. More energy means better repair. That’s why red light therapy has been studied for faster wound healing, reducing inflammation, boosting collagen, and even supporting joint recovery. It’s not anti-aging fairy dust, but the science is real.

The mask is enough for me. Ten minutes, a few times a week. But if you want to go further, there are full-body panels that cover everything from muscles to fascia. Those are powerful if you want systemic effects, not just skin-deep.

For me, the mask became more than skincare. It’s a ritual. A way of saying to myself: I want my cells to keep fighting, even when the years try to slow me down.

If you’ve never tried it, start small. Ten minutes, three times a week. Let your future body decide if it was worth it. These are the ones I have.

This one doesn’t need equipment. Just a pause before a choice.

Whenever I’m about to do something, pour a drink, skip a workout, or stay up scrolling. I ask myself one question: will Future Me thank me for this, or resent me for it?

It’s brutal because the answer is instant. No justifications, no stories, no pretending. You already know.

I’ve started using this filter once a day. Not for every decision, that’s impossible. But once a day is enough. Because even one choice, shifted forward, adds up. It’s the difference between rehearsing regrets and rehearsing proof.

Try it once this week. Ask the question out loud. Let Future You answer.

Most of my podcasts start as background noise, dishes, emails, and dinner. But every now and then, something catches me mid-scroll and actually makes me stop. This week, it was this.

If something in this email made you pause, think, or feel seen, send it to a friend who’s been quietly trying to make a change, too.
You never know what might land at the right moment. Link here.

And if you’d like early access to the eBook I’m writing, the real systems, mindset shifts, and habits that helped me lose 50kg and rebuild my health, you can join the waiting list here. “You’re not behind. You’re building, and that takes time.”