Too much talk about dreams and goals fills me with a need to stop everything, cuddle my husband, play with my puppy, ride my bike, pick some flowers, and invite my nearest and dearest for a home-cooked brunch.
Envisioning my perfect day helps me recount the things and people that are most important to me. I close my eyes and wonder: ‘if I could do anything, what would I do and whom would I do it with?’
Is the perfect day an illusion? I described bits and pieces of what mine would look like – friends and biking and cooking – but still so much was left out – think yoga and hiking and being with friends. All the activity makes me wonder if the perfect day truly exists? Might I be more honest if I envisioned the perfect week?
It seems true that there isn’t enough time for all my favorite things to happen in just one day. For instance, I need time for a morning stroll and time to make waffles; time to read the WSJ and time to sleep-in; time to watch the sunrise and time to call my grandma. And heavens: that’s just the morning.
Journaling about the improbability of the perfect day has me mentally creating a game where you pick activities and design a different ‘perfect day’ each time you play. So much, in fact, that I stopped writing and designed this graphic:
Now tell me: what’s your perfect day? Week? Does it look anything like my game?