what's your ideal day?
Mine would be to wake up in a cabin, go on an amazing hike, finish in a hot tub, and then enjoy a good meal. That happened this past Saturday, and I didn’t even really plan it.
I was open to it.
Rod joined me in Anchorage after I spoke at a conference. We picked a place about an hour away that sounded interesting and took a gamble on a rental cabin. I knew it was the right place when the owner left fancy chocolates out for our arrival.
The next morning, we asked her for hike recommendations. The first one sounded like a great 10-mile round trip, so we drove up a rutted dirt road our rental car had no business being on. We pulled over to let a much better-equipped Subaru pass, and the driver later thanked us at the trailhead parking area (this was Alaska, where everyone seems to be exceptionally nice). He and a friend were putting on ski pants and attaching skins to their skis, and their skis to their packs. Looking up, we saw some snow in the distance, and the cabin host had speculated we might have a dusting where we were going, but it was beautiful, golden, and dry, so I felt fine in my trail runners. I left the hiking poles behind, and Rod carried the bear spray.
Forty-five minutes later, we were on a 45-degree scree slope, and I was wishing for those poles. Fifteen minutes after that, we were fully in the snow, and I was wishing for ski pants. We turned around at mile 3 when the snow reached mid-calf and we couldn’t see where the trail continued. We were disappointed to miss the alpine lake and glacier ahead, but we marveled at going from fall to winter and back to fall as we descended.
On the drive back down the now even muddier road, we decided to try a different trail: the historic original Iditarod. Ten steps in, we were in a spring-like rainforest, in Alaska! It felt magical, like waiting-for-unicorns-to-jump-out magical. We were immersed in golden late-afternoon light filtered through pines, needle-blanketed trails, surreal vegetation, and absolute quiet. The painter Bob Ross would have called it a “happy accident.” If we had pushed on into the snow on the first trail, we never would have found this hike, which is now emblazoned in my mind as one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.
Next came a Nordic spa set in that same rainforest, where we spent two blissful, cellphone-free hours in contrast therapy, alternating between hot tubs, cold plunges, saunas, and steam rooms. My fear of germs in communal pools would usually have kept me out, but I went for it and forgot all about that fear within a couple minutes in the first hot tub.
We finished the night at a local brewery, chatting with the people at our table, enjoying delicious Mexican food from the food truck in the parking lot. Left to me, we would have picked a restaurant serving Alaskan seafood and missed making new friends and getting contact info for our next trip.
So we had a wonderful day, but why am I telling you this?
I’m a well-being coach for leaders, and I see this same pattern again and again: people are so busy getting through each day that they lose sight of what they’re doing it for, and they miss the magic and beauty hidden in the everyday. I get it. I spent years in survival mode, just trying to get through, with some vague hope of one day finally living the life I wanted.
Would I have designed this as my ideal day back then? No. Would I have designed it a week ago? I doubt it.
But I was open to it, present for it, immersed in it, and full of awe. Being ready for the day as it unfolded did not happen by accident. My health and my relationship with Rod are strong because I've invested in both, so we could debate turning around, which trails to take, and where to eat without anyone feeling affronted. We raised our daughters to be independent and responsible, so we knew we could go phone-free for most of the day while we were 1,800 miles from them, and it would be okay.
I did not rush the day away planning for the next thing. I just let it unfold and savored every moment of it. I knew things were going to work out.
There is a word for this mindset: pronoia. It's the opposite of paranoia; it’s the belief that the world is conspiring in your favor. That belief opens your eyes to possibilities and opportunities, and it helps you build the life you're working for.
Most of us will not have a day like this every year, or even every decade, and that’s not the point. The point is knowing what you are working toward so you can start living it now, while staying open to happy accidents and savoring them when they arrive.
You don’t have to wait until you’re retired and find yourself in a surprise rainforest to experience this. Here are four things to do now to bring this same potential for awe into your life.
1. Describe your ideal day.
Write a few sentences about it. Where do you wake up, what do you do, who is with you, and how does it end? What surprises you? What feels very close to where you are and what feels far away? These questions may influence how you take care of yourself and your relationships. If, for example, your ideal day includes skiing but you’ve got a nagging hip you “need to get checked out” – this might inspire you to schedule that appointment.
2. Leave room for surprise.
Pick a few hours and begin to do something you like, but with more openness than agenda. Maybe you bike once a week. Try a new trail without setting a distance goal. If you like to go out to eat, try the new restaurant and say hi to the people next to you.
3. Be fully there.
Whatever you are doing, be fully in it. Notice something in your environment that surprises or delights you. When that happens, stop, close your eyes, breathe in and let all your senses experience it. This savoring will help you experience more of the moment and seal the memory.
4. Notice the good.
Believing that good things will happen can help move you out of threat mode and open your eyes to more opportunities. Our brains are tilted toward finding the bad, so this one takes a little more work. Don’t be surprised if your brain keeps finding the problems or planning what is next. Just keep gently redirecting your attention to something nice about what’s happening right now. With repetition, this can become more natural. This doesn’t diminish your ability to stay safe (remember, we still took the bear spray on our hike), but it significantly increases your enjoyment of whatever you are doing.
Look for happy accidents, practice pronoia, and build the life you are working for.
~ Sarah
P.S. If you’re wondering what this might look like in your own life – now and into the future – please reach out. I’m living proof that an anxious planner can learn to delight in such surprises.
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