Overcoming Resistance for Dummies
Update on Experiment #9 Ghost of Future Me
Hi all! I want to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who reached out to congratulate me on 40 posts ! Here’s to 40 more!
The last few weeks we’ve also explored:
And my post, The Grief Gift, was featured on a beautiful blog about loss, Salt Water!
This week I’m circling back to the experiment I devised at the beginning of last month. I’d love to hear in the comments if you think this experiment might help you, too?
Hi, lovely friends. Happy January. I know we’re all busy right now, so I’m going to start today’s post with the end, the take-away.
Which is: if you’ve got resistance, or resentment, or major B.S. (Boogey-man Syndrome) about some task you’ve put on your list for today or this week, then the Ghost of Future Me experiment could be exactly what you need.
Last month I wrote about launching Experiment #8: A quest to discover how my days would feel if I stopped holding out for an End-of-the-Day-Ideal-Me who would feel completely satisfied after perfectly achieving all the things. (Spoiler: She never showed up.) And, instead paused to consider how the Me 20-minutes-from-now might feel engaging in the task ahead.
It’s helped me tackle all kinds of tasks, from the scary to the super boring. You can read more here on the start.
Today I’ve got some results based on a month or so of experimenting, which boil down to this:
Even though I am almost always wrong about how 20-Minutes-from-Now-Me will actually feel, conjuring her has given me a boost to get going in the right direction, and has helped me more deeply experience the loveliness I want to feel in the in-between times of my life.
Here’s an example from last week: On Tuesday, I looked up and was startled by a Rorschach splotch of blue sky peeking over my backyard fence. It had been raining and cloudy for over a week; I’d stopped checking my weather app because it seemed to be stuck cycling between “pouring rain” or “about to pour rain.”
I’d been running around the house as moms do, flinging things into their respective rooms, running yet one more cycle of the dishwasher to clear the last glasses from the holiday, texting to arrange playdates for the week, answering emails. But when I spied the blue sky, it stopped me in my tracks.
Blue sky! I crowed to my family, who were all sitting at the dining room table huddled over their devices. The screen slavers were unimpressed.
Friends, this is where I want to write that I leapt at the chance to seize the moment, dropped everything, and laced up my sneakers to venture out for a walk in the crisp December air!
But the truth is, after gaping for a moment at the blue patch, I continued on with the day’s tasks. I was in my groove, making decent progress on my projects, as close as I get to a tidy hum. Sure, this tiny blue patch could grow into an even larger patch, maybe even a whole sunny afternoon, a gift I’d been longing for all week. But I really didn’t want to stop now. Maybe later. I thought.
A couple of hours later, though, when the to-dos had slowed to a trickle, my energy had, too. At that point, I realized that while I could step outside for a walk, I kinda just wanted to sit on the couch and scroll or read a magazine.
Here’s where the 20-Minutes-from-Now Me worked her magic. I took a moment to conjure that Me—sneakers on, earbuds in, striding down the sidewalk breathing in the fresh air. I could sense how self-satisfied she’d feel.
The problem was, the call of the couch was strong. I imagined an alternate timeline me, a 20-Minutes-from-Now Me who stayed put, reading juicy Substacks with her feet up, hopefully undisturbed by the family around her. Honestly, that sounded pretty good, too.
But as I visualized, I noticed that the Me on the couch was a tiny bit distracted from her happy scrolling by a nagging thought... I should go outside and enjoy the sun.
I laced up my sneakers and headed out the door.
Here’s where I learned how wrong I could be about 20-Minutes-from-Now Me. Yes, I predicted she’d be “happier” taking a walk, but there was no way I could have accurately predicted the visceral ecstasy she’d feel from the cool air on face, the sunshine warming the top of her head, the scent of a long, hard rain in her nostrils. I didn’t predict the giddy joy she’d feel walking beneath the raindrops hanging from leafless tree limbs like gossamer fairy globes in the afternoon sun. The delight of discovering a galaxy of spiky red seed pods scattered across the glistening road.
I passed a woman walking her dog and our eyes met.
Can you believe all this beauty? Her smile seemed to say as she tipped her head slightly.
A miracle! I shot back with my grin.
I silently called to the people in the houses I passed. I imagined them inside, possibly making good progress on their tasks, or comfortable on their couches.
Come out! come out! my heart called out. Don’t miss this life, this beauty!
I promise that 20-Minutes-from-Now You will be grateful.
Thanks Marika! I had a client document that I’d put off for weeks...but today used your technique. A friend was giving me a ride home and it was 2:10 when she texted “leave at 2:30?” I replied “yes, going to try and crank out one document I’ve been avoiding before we go.” I imagined my 20-minute future self who’d feel great riding home with this “to do” now “to done.” It worked. The constraint, completely self-imposed, worked like a charm.
Marika, I love the 20-Minutes-From -Now-You, thanks. This is a much easier concept to digest than our future self we cannot yet feel or sense. It takes just a little less trust, slightly less surrender, to show up for that person. It's as if we can say 'I'll give a little and see what happens' which is a brilliant plan.