My ideal morning: themes

I’ve written about how to design your ideal day, how to recognize false choices that can hamstring you when you’re contemplating change, and how to set resolutions, but there’s something I haven’t written about yet.

My own ideal day.

So without further ado, I’m going to explain how I followed steps 1 and 2 in this post to analyze my ideal day and identify key themes.

Step 1: Break it down.

I’ve broken down my ideal day into three blocks — morning, afternoon, and evening — and I’m beginning by making changes to my morning.  The morning sets the tone for the rest of each day, and it’s also a time of energy and hope, so it seemed like a natural starting point.

Step 2: Identify themes.

Here’s my ideal morning:

  • Wake up at 6:45 am.
  • Take a cup of coffee out onto my porch/deck, which has flowers around it and is serene and maybe near a body of water. Read, think, talk with [my significant other] a bit. Maybe take a short walk (in my pajamas) on my property to see the water/welcome the day.
  • Take a shower around 8 am, spend very little time getting ready because I look fine from sleeping and eating well.
  • Write for ~4 hours. Have a light but refreshing meal (fruit & yogurt with nuts & seeds, for example) when I’m hungry.

This couldn’t look much more different from my average morning. In my real life, it never feels as if I have enough time in the morning. I shower, I put on makeup, I dry and straighten my hair, taking sips of coffee from a mug that’s perched dangerously on the rim of the sink. By the time I’m ready to head out the door, I’m five minutes late and I’ve forgotten to eat breakfast. All in all, my morning routine feels nasty, brutish, and short. And then, of course, I have a bear of a commute to get to the office.

In comparing my ideal and real mornings, I identified a few key themes:

  • Spaciousness. I hate rushing. Hate, hate, hate. So why do I do it every morning? I’ve always told myself I’m not a morning person, I’m a befuddled dragon before my first cup of coffee, etc. But maybe I’ve been making my mornings unpleasant by waking up at the last minute, rushing through my routine, and running to the train station in my flip flops—rather than allowing myself the time and space to greet the day.
  • Access to the outdoors. This was one of the great surprises of writing out my ideal day. I hadn’t even noticed how much I missed being in nature until I realized that my perfect day would start outdoors.
  • Attuned eating. I tend to eat when I think I should or when I’m bored/stressed/anxious rather than when I really want to. One day I allowed myself to work up an appetite before dinner, and I was surprised—almost embarrassed, really—at how much more I enjoyed the food. Do I really never let myself get hungry? To clarify, this theme isn’t about eating less or eating differently (I could lay off the garlic knots, but I love them so). Instead, it’s about cultivating and paying attention to my appetite.
  • Writing. I love to write. But sometimes I hate it: specifically, when I procrastinate until the day has gone by and it’s time to get ready for bed but I’m trying to jot down a few paragraphs and my head hurts and none of my ideas seem good anymore and all I can think is maybe Im not cut out for this. If I intend to fill my days with activities I really want to do, I should start with writing. No excuses.

Now that I’ve identified my key themes, it’s time for me to set small, manageable resolutions that will help me honor* them in my daily life, and my next post will be about just that.

Again, my goal isn’t to make a radical departure — I’m not going to quit my job and leave my boyfriend and start a goat farm in New Zealand (although I’d respect your decision to do so, if that’s your dream life!). Big, sudden changes aren’t my style, and — for me at least — they usually turn out not to be sustainable. Instead, my goal is to use daily resolutions to build a bridge between my current routine and my ideal day, plank by plank.

*What do you think, dear readers — is “honor” too grand or hippy-dippy a word to use here?

Advertisements

How to set resolutions

So you’ve designed your ideal day, and now you’re staring down the gap between where you are and where you want to be. What to do?

(If you haven’t already designed your ideal day, find my how-to guide here.)

Step 1: Break it down.

Suppose your ideal day includes an outdoor run in the morning, gardening and healthy cooking in the afternoon, and time to draw and paint in the evening.

Whoa there! That’s a lot to add into your daily life all at once — especially if you have a full-time job or other obligations that take up a significant portion of your day.

I recommend breaking down your ideal day and handling one “block” at a time. For my own Ideal Day Project, I’m breaking down my day into morning, afternoon, and evening.

First, I’ll devise ways to incorporate some aspects of my ideal morning into my current routine. (The trick is to figure out how to get started now, even if that means taking very small steps. It’s tempting to defer making changes until some imaginary less-busy or more-convenient time in the future, but all too often that time never comes.)

Only once I’ve made my morning-inspired changes will I tackle the afternoon, and I’ll save the evening for last. 

Step 2: Identify themes.

beautiful day

Do a close reading of the block you’ve chosen to tackle first. What themes do you notice? What values or priorities do the details of your day support

For example:

  • That outdoor run might indicate that physical health, access to nature, and stress relief are important themes for you.
  • A desire to paint could show that you value creativity, self-expression, and (don’t forget this one!) alone time.
  • If your ideal house is serene and sparsely decorated, with white walls and nearly empty cupboards, you might identify simplicity and non-consumerism as takeaway themes.

Step 3: Set resolutions.

Take each of the themes you identified in Step 2 and decide on one thing you can do as part of your daily routine to honor that theme.

For example, if you value simplicity but your apartment is clutter heaven, with lipsticks falling out of the medicine cabinet every time you open it,* you might resolve to spend 15 minutes each day going through a shelf, cupboard, or closet. Work on one area at a time, weeding out things you don’t need, and when the kitchen timer goes off, you can quit for the day with a clean conscience.

If you want to spend more time outdoors but haven’t taken a hike for five years, resolve to drink your first cup of coffee on your porch or at a window. Just five or ten minutes in the morning, if you spend them the way you really want to spend them, can reset the tone of your day. And maybe this Saturday afternoon you’ll find yourself wanting to head out for a walk instead of watching five episodes of Veronica Mars on Netflix.*

Parting advice.

rose

Choose resolutions that are so unbelievably manageable that they can be done daily.

If I resolve to run five miles three days a week, I end up procrastinating on Monday and Tuesday, thinking up something better to do on Wednesday, coming up with excuses on Thursday and Friday, and giving up by the time the weekend rolls around. And then, maybe because I associate it with failure, I sure as heck don’t feel like running the next week.

But if I resolve to do some kind of exercise — walking, pilates videos on YouTube, dancing in public to embarrass my long-suffering boyfriend — for fifteen minutes every single day, I can’t procrastinate and I don’t have to muster a lot of willpower or make excuses.

Even better: meeting my goal on Monday gives me the momentum to do it on Tuesday, and meeting my goal on Tuesday gives me the momentum to do it on Wednesday. By the time I get to Thursday, I don’t want to break my three-day streak, and I find I feel like exercising for half an hour or full hour anyway.

Streaks are important. And if you’re going to celebrate them, you need to record them. Make a spreadsheet. Get an app (My Wonderful Goals is a popular one). But if you keep track of your resolutions and whether you meet them each day in a way that you can review at a glance, you’ll feel motivated to break bad streaks and maintain good ones.

True story: I started playing the violin at age 5. I liked the idea of playing the violin, but I hated to practice. Yes, hide-under-my-sister’s-bed-where-my-parents-couldn’t-reach-me hate.

One day, my parents brought me a notebook with a big grid pattern printed on the pages. Every day I practiced, they explained, I could put a sticker in one of the boxes, and once I had put 70 stickers in a row, I could drag my parents (also long-suffering) to the store and pick out a Polly Pocket. But if I missed a day, my streak would be broken, and I would have to start—no!—back at square zero.

Well, friends, it worked: I practiced every day, and I still have the Polly Pockets to prove it. So get yourself a sticker book, and start building a bridge between your average day and your ideal one.

_______

In my next post, I’ll share my ideal morning and tell you how I’ve followed the steps above to identify themes and set resolutions. But in the meantime, I’d love to hear about your progress and the changes you’re making!

______

* Yes, I’ve been there.

False choices: On not second-guessing yourself

I’m going to be honest: My ideal day looks very different from my average day. My current routine includes a 2.5-hour commute, a job that I enjoy but that doesn’t satisfy my creative impulses (writing), and more hairstyling, makeup applications, TV watching, procrastinating, complaining, clutter, and downright negativity than I’d like to admit.

Until now, this disparity frustrated and discouraged me. I balked at making any changes–even easy ones–because I was trapping myself in false choices.

In the name of being rational, I was talking myself out of positive changes. I hamstrung myself before I even let myself move past square one.

Do you recognize any of the following?

  • I’m a realist, not an escapist. 
  • I want to learn to be happy with what I have, not spend my time wishing things were different.
  • If I’m going to pursue the career I really want, I need to leave my current job.

flower sidewalk

Gretchen Rubin explains how to recognize and sidestep false choices in her book The Happiness Project and in her lovely blog. She suggests that our minds invent false choices because they reduce “a bewildering array of options” into a “few simple possibilities.”

We create false choices in order to give ourselves an easy out. It’s easy to say, “Sure, I’d love to be an artist, but I have to stick to my real job.” If there’s a disparity between our dream career and our current career, it’s really, really hard to spend nights and weekends doing what sustains us–what we want to do–and then figure out how to make some income from it.

But once we realize that the hard choices we’ve created for ourselves–either I marry this guy or I’ll be single forever–don’t really exist, new possibilities open up. They may well be bewildering, but they exist. We can have our cake and eat it too.

I know what I want to do. I want to figure out–day by day–how to make time for what I really want to do. I want to stay grateful for all the good things in my life but not let myself get complacent or ignore the daily things I can do to improve my happiness, productivity, and creativity. I intend to do fantastic work at my job, and there’s no getting out of that 2.5-hour commute, but maybe I can use that time more productively. And maybe I can come home and write and create and throw dinner parties and spend time with the people I love, having conversations I’ll remember forty years from now.

Every time I feel as if I have to choose between work and play, relaxation and productivity, gratitude and the desire for change, I’ll remind myself: false choice! And I’ll move on with my  not-at-all-bad day.