Author: Jason

Escape Adulthood!

That’s our rallying cry.

Maybe it’s obvious, but we’re not actually calling for everyone to ditch their responsibilities. We’re not advocating strict diets of chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. And we’re not suggesting that we all quit our jobs to muck around with Play-Doh all day long.

There are actually some sweet benefits that come from being an adult. (Ordering strawberry margaritas at a Mexican restaurant is just one of them.)

The “Adulthood” we encourage people to escape from is the one they create for themselves when they assume childhood is nothing more than a stage of life, a hermetically sealed portion of their past. It is the Adulthood with all the stupid rules, the one that demands we always do the safe and prudent thing, that we earn play through hard work, and that we must always, without exception, take ourselves way too seriously.

Yeah, that’s the Adulthood that sucks.

The hallmark of way too many “adult” lives is the propensity to “live for the weekends.” The work week is meant to be muddled through, a necessary evil required to pay the bills and finance the epic fun we are finally allowed to have on the weekend.

As an entrepreneur (and now an entrepreneur with a kid), I have found that my weekends are, by comparison to many of my peers, pretty boring. One would expect that in my line of work, I’d spend my time off galavanting about on some thrilling childlike adventures. Sometimes. But not often. I had begun to wonder if something was wrong with me or if I was living a hypocritical life.

But then I came across a quote from Hugh MacLeod of the wildly insightful Gapingvoid.com. He said:

Running a startup is full of extreme ups and downs. Which is why so many successful and happy entrepreneurs I know lead such normal, stable, unglamorous, “boring”, family-centered lives. Somehow they need the latter in order to balance out the former. Extra-curricular drama looks great in the tabloids, but that’s all it’s ultimately good for.

Aha! That explained a lot. Running a business brings its own share of drama. And fun. It’s exciting, engaging, and tremendously gratifying. My weekends tend to be a chance to recover from the adventure that is my daily life. I don’t feel any particular reason to thank God for Fridays, and I never experience what I call “Sunday Night Dread,” although I used to do both.

It occurs to me that the people living for the weekend are also yearning for an escape from the very same “capital A” Adulthood I started this post talking about. But the drama they indulge in is only a temporary fix that always ends with the cold shower known as Monday Morning.

Instead of escaping by means of cheap thrills, strong drinks, or mindless entertainment, might I suggest a more productive, long-term fix?

Escape instead from the rules that don’t exist but which are currently holding you back. Practice being courageous and begin to dream again. Let go of the assumptions that the workweek must always be drudgery and that passionate living can’t be a daily reality. Ask questions about your current situation and get curious about what some new choices might manifest. Tap into your wellspring of passion and work at becoming the linchpin you were created to be.

If Friday is your favorite day of the week, it might be time to make a change.

Life is too short to spend it living for the weekend.

Escape Adulthood!

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been married. Keep it up if you received some beautiful dinnerware as a wedding gift that has never seen an actual dinner table.

Wow, that’s a lot of hands.

We are proud of our fancy china. We display it on a shelf or in a cabinet specially made for such things. Most of us intend to use it someday, we’re just waiting for the right occasion. Judging by how infrequently we use the stuff, apparently we’re waiting for the Pope or the President or Peyton Manning to call us up and say, “Hey, I was gonna be in the neighborhood. Mind if I stop over for dinner?”

It’s clear that our bar for “special occasions” is set pretty high.

But what if…

What if you pulled out the good stuff on some random…Wednesday? What if you set the table with the fancy china and a luxurious fabric tablecloth? What if you turned the lights down low and lit a few candles? What if you turned on some jazz or classical music? What if you served drinks in wine glasses — even if the menu was only macaroni and cheese and milk?

Why not?

What this does is serve as an important symbol that any time you spend sharing a meal with people you love — whether it’s your spouse, best friend, or family — is indeed a special occasion. More than that, it’s blessed. Holy, even.

In our frantic lives, meal time increasingly becomes just another thing to check off the list between meetings and soccer practice. And it’s your family that pays the price.

When you get to the end of your life, and you’re sharing favorite memories with loved ones, the Disney World vacation or the trip to the Grand Canyon will get mentioned, but most of the time will be spent recounting those simple moments around the dinner table. Traditions. Stories. Memories.

“Remember that time when…?”

“Remember how you used to…?”

“Remember that one story you always told…?”

I’ve been sharing this idea of having more “fancy” dinners in my recent speaking programs. The other day, I got an email from an audience member who decided to give it a try. Here’s her account of how it went:

Hey Jason,

I just wanted to write and say thanks for sharing your ideas. My husband and I have 5 kids ranging in age from 15-1/2 to 2-1/2. We decided to have a candle light dinner with the kids — it was so much fun! We broke out the good dishes and silverware, drank our milk in wine glasses, etc.  The oldest two were really confused and the 8-year-old said nothing but her expression of “Where are our real parents?” was enough to tickle my funny bone. As we were setting the table, and they were noticing this was no ordinary Sunday night dinner, they were asking, “Did we win the lottery? Are you having another baby?” and lots of other hilarious questions. It was priceless…

Thanks again for inspiring us to LIVE!!!

Take care,
Cindy and Pete Payne and kids
Eastman, WI

This is a moment — a memory — that you could create this very evening. Easy.

But you have to be willing to give the good china a change of scenery. I know that the good stuff is expensive and hard — impossible sometimes — to replace. You don’t want a plate to get chipped or broken. If you’re going to risk doing damage, you want to make sure it’s a worthy occasion.

But just for a moment, think of someone you love who’s passed away.

A spouse.

A parent.

A child.

Wouldn’t you do just about anything to have one more dinner with that person?

Now tell me that having dinner on a Wednesday with someone you love isn’t a special occasion.

When I was a kid, there was nothing worse than a Sunday night during the school year. The foreboding end of weekend freedom was perilously near. As the sun set and the clock ticked older, the pit in my stomach grew and grew. I did well in school, but thinking ahead to a week of early mornings, boring lectures, bad lunches, stupid bullies, and unexciting homework was hardly a thing to look forward to.

I was suffering from Sunday Night Dread.

On Friday afternoon, the future unfolded before me with endless possibilities. The freedom was intoxicating, and the sky was the limit. On Saturday, I knew the clock was ticking, but I took comfort in the fact that I still had a whole day left in the bank. But there was no escaping Sunday Night Dread, with its whispers of Monday growing ever louder as the day wore on.

The most treacherous Sunday Night Dread of all came on the last day of summer vacation. Then Sunday Night Dread spilled into an entire week!

I used to believe that Sunday Night Dread was a condition that only affected school children. A graduation from formal education taught me otherwise. I discovered that a vast majority of adults also suffered from Sunday Night Dread, complete with the anxiety of another week of early mornings, boring meetings, bad lunches, stupid bosses, and unexciting work. It is so widespread that a restaurant chain has achieved great success by embracing a theme – Thank God It’s Friday – which is the antithesis of Sunday Night Dread.

Once I got married and started full force into my career as a freelance illustrator and designer (which evolved into what I do today), I have never really suffered from Sunday Night Dread. I was finally doing what I loved and actually looked forward to Mondays.

Sunday Night Dread is still a major factor for most people. But it doesn’t need to be.

On his show, The Big Idea, Donny Deutsch interviews people who are doing what they love and, in many cases, have made millions doing it. During one episode, he made this statement: “If Sunday night feels different than Friday night, you’re doing something wrong.”

Re-read that sentence again, and let it sink in.

If you’re on the right path, Friday should feel no different than Sunday or Tuesday or any other day of the week. You should have a passion for your work that doesn’t shut off when it’s time to go home. It should keep you up at night (in a good, excited-to-get-going-the-next-day sort of way.)

If you aren’t thrilled with your job and are experiencing Sunday Night Dread, you probably fall into one of two camps. Either you know exactly what you’d rather be doing (and, for a variety of reasons, stay put), or you have no idea what you’d rather be doing. Whole books have been written about what to do if you’re in either camp, but let me offer a few simple steps to get you started.

Scenario #1: I know what I’d rather be doing, but I can’t do that!

If you’re stuck in a career that fosters Sunday Night Dread even though you have a bigger dream deep inside, you have at least one obstacle in your path, and that obstacle is called fear. You may say, “That’s not true; I just can’t afford to lose the great benefits that come with this job.”

Really? The truth is that you’re afraid that you might get sick and go bankrupt if you give up those almighty benefits. I can’t get into every potential roadblock you’re dealing with, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll notice that it usually boils down to fear.

Combat this fear by spending time thinking about what you might lose if you don’t leap. Imagine life down the road a decade or two – what will those regrets feel like tomorrow if you don’t go for it today? And what could you gain if you do? A little perspective like that is a great catalyst to remind you that even though it might be painful or scary to act now, it can never match the pain of regret if you don’t even try.

Scenario #2: I’m not crazy about my job, but I’m not sure what else to do.

If you suffer from Sunday Night Dread, but have no idea what you’d rather be doing, you’re a rare individual. I bet you really DO know what you want to do, but have given fear such an upper hand that you won’t allow yourself to consider alternative possibilities.

Awareness is the first step. The sheer act of acknowledging Sunday Night Dread will eliminate a blockage and open your mind to new opportunities. Pay attention to the things about your job you actually like. Or the passions and pastimes you can’t wait to work on when you get home. These clues can help lead you to a life lacking Sunday Night Dread.

No matter what camp you’re in, it’s important to know that if your Friday night feels different than your Sunday night, you’re doing something wrong. You were not designed to toil away with your talents and passions rotting away on the sideline.

Take that first step in eliminating Sunday Night Dread from your life today!