This is part of an exercise used a lot by those of us who facilitated group workshops during the 80s and the worst of AIDS.
It seemed especially useful to adult gay men because one thing we seem to have in common is having felt, around the age of 10, very isolated and anxious about our futures. The idea behind it is that our adult self, having survived from there to here, would have a unique ability to speak to the specific concerns of our 10 year old self. What was amazing about the process was how much of our 10 year old self's concerns still created anxiety for us as adults, which we couldn't identify, and that was calmed simply by bringing them forward and addressing them.
For me, going through it the first time in being trained by GMHC to volunteer was cathartic. It took place in a large room in NYC with maybe 50 other gay men, all seated cross-legged in a huge circle holding hands, eyes closed. By the time the exercise got to us approaching our 10 year old self, placing a hand on his shoulder, I was totally drawn in. The hurt and the fear still living inside me from back then was a big shock -- seeing it, letting it out, addressing it myself was monumentally liberating. Being told by our facilitator, "You may help your buddy next to you if you want," the man to my left and the man to my right let go of the men to their other sides and we three held one another while sobs washed through us. It was, in a way, a ridiculous moment, these grown men sobbing over the release of hurt and fear from so long ago; and it changed my life. It actually changed my life. What happened, what I felt at 10 years old didn't change; it never will because it's done and will always remain as it was. But the 10 year old boy who lives inside me today is not hurt and is not afraid because he knows it's going to turn out okay.
I remember that afternoon, what I imagined in that exercise more than 20 years ago, like it was last week.
I walked up behind my 10 year old self, put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Hi, buddy. You're safe with me." He didn't know who I was. "I'm you, all grown up. I'm strong and I'm loved and I'm having a good time." Beneath my hand I felt him tremble, too stoic to cry but too hurt not to. I stepped closer and put my arm around his shoulder. "You're safe with me and I won't abandon you." That's what 10 year old me needed to know.