Weekend one – The I did weekend
- I connected with friends
- I re-read a favorite book
- I listened to the rain on my roof
- I had a great coaching session with my personal trainer setting fitness goals and strategies
- I went for a wonderful West Seattle walk with my new puppy Chloe.
- I picked & ate some fresh blackberries
- I had fish & chips outdoors with a wonderful view of downtown, and the nice lady at the restaurant give me a free glass of wine just because I was short on cash in my pocket
- I wrote and posted a new blog post – an accomplishment weeks in the waiting
- I bonded and did some training with Chloe
- I did some much needed shopping
Weekend two – The I didn’t weekend
- I didn’t get a pedicure to fix my sad, chipped toenail polish
- I didn’t clean out the car
- I didn’t balance the checkbook or do financial planning
- I didn’t do my meal planning and buy groceries for two weeks
- I didn’t climb the Muni building stairs
- I didn’t go to yoga class
- I didn’t clean out my email and organize my calendar
- I didn’t revise and refine my 1yr, 5yr 10yr plan
- I didn’t try to find my future husband by writing to 10 potential dates online
- I didn’t go to see the movie “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”
- I didn’t clean the litter box
(Side question to self: Why is the ‘didn’t’ weekend easier to write/remember?)
Which is it?
Comparing them, weekend one sounds and feels like a wonderful, relaxing and fulfilling two days. Weekend two sounds and feels burdensome, overwhelming and dreary. Funny thing is – it was the same weekend, the exact same 48 hours, and I lived them both.
It wasn’t until Sunday evening after taking Chloe for a walk, that I glanced at my car on the way in the house and caught myself thinking “Damned, I didn’t clean the car.” And that’s when it hit me – I had just experienced a wonderful weekend, but here I was, beating myself up for what I hadn’t done. And, I’d been doing that all throughout the weekend. Yes, I hadn’t done a weeks’ worth of chores, but I had done all that other great stuff. In that moment, I remembered – I get to choose which weekend I actually had. Which weekend would I relive in my mind? Which weekend would I share with coworkers the next day? It was really up to me to say.
Then I realized it’s actually always like that. Our words, made into stories and descriptions of what occurred, are what create our experiences. And, we always have a choice about the words we use and the stories we tell ourselves and others. And those stories we choose give us the quality of our experience.
Fast forward to Monday
Co-worker: “How was your weekend?”
Me: “It was wonderful! Relaxing. I went for a walk with Chloe in West Seattle, re-read a favorite book, picked some blackberries….”
What about you?
- How do you choose what stories to tell?
- Are they mostly default (didn’t do weekend), or created (did do weekend)?
- How do you remind yourself to tell great stories?