When my friend Jen said, “I decided to turn drudgery into joy” the other day, I knew I had to write it down on a sticky note (because everyone knows that Post It notes are where all good ideas must go to germinate). I knew she was onto something good and I knew I was onto juicy blog post fodder.
Jen had two sort-of-sucky business trips on the horizon; they were in uninspiring cities leaving Jen to feel—wait for it—uninspired. Most people would shift into low gear for three weeks of uninspiration: they’d go through the motions, gate check *gasp!* their luggage (because that’s what happens when you fly to bufu nowhere on uninspired commuter flights), lament their lives for three Mondays in a row, possibly curl up into a fetal position and hope for a swift mercy-death.
But no! Not Jen. She knew better than to have a boredom breakdown in a regional airport. She tuned lemons into lemon meringue pie, and how else can one do that other than to create a GIANT ROAD TRIP out of the whole affair? Her plan was set into motion: she’d be on the road crossing half of the country for three weeks, visiting special friends and interesting sights and yummy restaurants between cities.
When I spoke with her, she was just a few days in and shared with palpable giddiness that she didn’t know where she’d be staying between work gig #1 and #2. I’m going to repeat that because you’re probably feeling like I did when I heard that for the first time: SHE DIDN’T HAVE A PLAN FOR A BIG CHUNK OF HER TRIP. This, my friend, is what is known as spontaneity and you can bet I wrote that word on its own sticky note. (More on that intoxicating/ terrifying/ thrilling concept another time.) What if there was no room at the proverbial inn after driving through the night on a random highway? What if she had to forage from a gas station for a makeshift dinner of pepperoni sticks and Cheetos (okay that wouldn’t be so bad but you know what I mean)? What if she … had fun? After she got back from her So Not Uninspired Road Trip I learned she treated herself to a stay at a fabulous resort where a butler drew a bath in her room for her every evening with flower petals sprinkled in and around the giant tub.
She turned drudgery into joy! (And maybe almost got laid?)
Examples, because we love examples
- The Husband and I need to clean out and reorganize our kitchen cupboards and drawers. Swizzle sticks and scotch tape and crumbs are comingling and it’s elevating our blood pressure just to be in the kitchen. How to turn this potentially drudgerous activity into joy? We decided to make a special date out of it (which means I will blare music and have margaritas while I mostly watch him make everything clean and orderly again). We also agreed we’ll order pizza as a reward, so it’s sounding like joy already.
- A woman at a workshop I led had the drudgerly task of moving her mother into a senior living facility. Her mom was keen about the whole thing—maybe because her daughter was doing all the (literal) heavy lifting. This woman saw the chance to make the life change for her mom a meaningful event for them both; they revisited old photo albums as they packed them up, reflected on her mom’s legacy, got intentional about the new + exciting life of “Carole 2.0” in the retirement home, and invited neighbors over for a Bon Voyage BBQ.
- One of my previous clients is an accountant who used to dread tax season; he’d hardly see his family for a three month stretch as he burned the midnight oil. For years he’d turn into Arnie the Asshole (his words, not mine—although I could not disagree with him) and he wanted to change his outlook. You know what it took? Sure, a bit of acceptance that his role had a busy season and that if he wanted the finer things in life he’d have to ride the wave. Mostly it was a milestone calendar he created with little celebration points. The week before “mayhem” he’d go away with his family and savor his time with them. Every Sunday he’d have a special meal and bottle of wine where his kids would cross of a week on the count down calendar. The 12-ish week work marathon would culminate with another vacation he’d pre-savor every night he poured over stacks of tax forms.
- In my book I tell the story of Shay, a friend of mine who underwent twenty weeks of chemo for breast cancer. She used some of that time to reflect in a special journal how she wanted her life to be when she made it through treatment … and then she darned well lived her life the way she imagined.
- Annoying commute? Been there. What about turning that time into a block of your day to look forward to? Maybe a great book/ audiobook awaits you on your way home … maybe you participate in a special guided meditation … maybe you learn a few things with some choice podcasts? Or you catch up with a friend through a phone call in that otherwise wasted time? This same thing goes for the “waiting for kids” time … if little Miranda is in a ballet lesson, you don’t have to be stuck scrolling through a disheartening newsfeed on your phone. You could make that your special time to go for a perfectly-timed walk, a coffee down the street, time to read that novel alone in your car, or arrange to meet a friend who lives near the studio.
- Dead zone job? In a holding pattern with a job you can’t leave just quite yet—because maybe your bonus pays out in the spring, or your big payout vests in two years … or you have to finish your lucrative internship … or you have to get one more year of experience under your belt before applying for the Big Job … or you’re waiting for your troll of a boss to retire so things can get good again … I get it. I’m a big fan of leaving jobs that suck the life out of us, but I also get it that we can use jobs for a while, too, while we’re maybe buying time. Turn that drudgery into joy by making a list of skills you’d like to brush up on before you go (and then consciously gain that experience while you’re there). Spend quality time with the people you like before you go. Find a way to use your strengths as much as you can before you go. Take the initiative on a new project where there might be some risk; learn how to fail with grace while you’re in a place you’ll be bolting from anyways.
- Crazy family visits? “Society” says we have to stay in touch with people we’d never give the time of day to if we didn’t happen to share the same DNA (or does it? Discuss amongst yourselves!). Some family members are awesome, and some are definitely less so. While sitting around the table at a holiday meal, for example, you can turn drudgery into joy by narrating the bestselling comedic memoir about your life (inside your head: that’s a crucial point) … capturing the snide comments made by your passive-aggressive mother, the self-aggrandizements of your narcissistic brother, the dredged-up trauma-dramas of your histrionic sister, the feigned interest of your deadbeat dad, and all the other predictably problematic behaviors made by the misfits you get to pose in a picture with at the end of the night. Joy means getting to go home, kids. REVEL IN THAT MOMENT. (Seems like this bullet point might need to be fleshed out in another post some time? Or maybe just a therapy session; bahahahahahaha).
Silver linings?
To be clear, this discussion isn’t about slapping a silver lining on every crappy thing, just to avoid our less-than-sunny-feelings. (I’ve tried that and regrettably it doesn’t work.) This is about thoughtfully looking at scenarios in our lives where we might rework reality to our advantage. Is cleaning out a kitchen cupboard ostensibly a joyful activity? No, unless your last name is Kondo. But we don’t have to grumble while we clean up a year’s worth of granola crumbs. We can arrange the situation to be better. We can get creative. We can ask for help. We can make a playlist and at least listen to good music as we clip the hedges. We can turn boring grocery store errands into serendipitous opportunities to find new and interesting spices (fenugreek, I’m looking at you).
What drudgery sits ahead of you that you can turn into joy? Go make a road trip out of it … maybe even with a flower-filled bathtub.
P.S.: Have you listened to the audio version of my book, You Only Die Once: How to Make It to the End with No Regrets? Ten hours of memento mori deliciousness and me in your ears.
P.P.S.: Let’s do Instagram together?
P.P.P.S.: Oh and just in case you missed it… I’d love you forever if you took 16 minutes out of your life to watch my TEDx talk!