Popping the Question (not That One)

Awhile back—maybe two years ago?—I was venting to my wife Megan. Though I cannot remember the source of my frustration, my best guess would be work.

At the time I had a hand in running three businesses: a marketing consultancy now called Wunderbar, a portfolio of iOS and Android apps, and a music tech startup called Closeup.fm. (Check out a killer Closeup case study here.) Factor in a wife, a child, a mortgage, a business partner, and various and sundry bills, and you begin to understand why I might feel a weight on my shoulders.

Megan always has wisdom to share, and on this particular day, she posed a question that stopped me in my tracks: "If you knew your current circumstances weren't going to change for awhile, what would you start doing differently right now?"

We often postpone certain choices, or the laying hold of sanity, or the practice of contentment and joy, or even small, healthy indulgences while we wait for a more opportune time.

Don't plan the vacation just yet. The kids aren't old enough.

Don't call it a day just yet. You haven't crossed every task of your list.

Don't go on a walk or take a nap or linger over lunch with a friend. Nope.

You need to double down, recommit. You must squeeze every lost drop of productivity out of yourself. You must delay gratification until... until... you're so burned out you only have eyes for what is broken, incomplete, or unsatisfying.

It's ironic really: We choose unsustainability as the path to some ideal future. We kill ourselves to improve our circumstances when a more humane, more sustainable, and, I might add, more effective way to achieve true prospering is to spend a portion of your waking hours enjoying life.

My conversation with me goes something like this:

Why are you working so hard? "So that my life will be better in the future."

What does "better" look like? [He rattles of a list of things like traveling, writing, studying another language, playing guitar, spending time with friends and family, and philanthropy.]

But couldn't you work less and do all of those things now? [Silence]

So what about you?

Let's say your ideal future never shows up on your doorstep. If you knew with complete clarity that you were never going to become independently wealthy/have a baby/get married/get a promotion/magically lose weight without changing your diet or exercising, what incremental change would you make right now?

I have started writing more (because I love it), running more (because it makes me less grumpy), and saving more (because I'm just as tired of trying to get rich quickly as I am of being broke).

What about you? If you knew your current circumstances weren't going to change for awhile, what would you start doing differently right now?

I'm learning that ideal futures are more like porch swings than mountaintops.