Feeling Lost? How Two Simple Lists Can Point You in the Right Direction
Have you ever suddenly looked up, taken a gander at your life, and thought, “What the bleep is going on here?!”
Maybe you’re sleepwalking through your job. Or you dropped a beloved hobby that used to make your toes curl with delight because it didn’t pay the bills. Perhaps it’s a relationship that’s fizzled out like discs of Alka Seltzer.
You’ve noticed something’s not right. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you know what kind of job, partner, or big dream might be a better fit. How can you check with that little voice inside and ask for directions?
My Personal Work Nightmare
I knew the moment I walked into the office on my very first day that this job wasn’t for me.
Maybe it was the fluorescent lighting. Or the sad little breakroom. It could have been the way people roamed the halls asking anyone within earshot if it was Friday yet. It was Monday.
The problem was I had just spent three years and thousands of dollars on a master’s degree to get here. And now I wanted out. Bad.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, or, more accurately, a pile of debt and absolutely no plan B.
When I lamented my situation to my husband, family, and strangers on the street, they inevitably asked what I’d like to do instead.
Easy question, right? We’ve all got dreams, and goals, and sparkly little fantasies.
Well, funnily enough, I didn’t. I went to grad school because I thought I wanted a stable job with good benefits, something that paid more than I made as a server. This job ticked all those boxes and yet here I was: a miserable mess.
I had absolutely no idea what to do. I was like a frantic little hummingbird, fluttering from idea to idea, begging the universe to show me a sign.
So, mystery lover that I am, I decided to put on my Detective hat and investigate. I was going to start paying attention to everything that gave me even the smallest burst of joy and hope that would point me in the right direction.
Two Lists to Light the Way
In Martha Beck’s book, “Steering By Starlight,” she introduces an exercise called “Shackles On/Shackles Off.”
There are just three simple steps:
- Pay attention to what feels right
- Pay attention to what feels wrong
- Write those things down
If like me, you’ve been sticking your fingers in your ears and chanting “la la la I can’t hear you” anytime an inconvenient emotion shows up, this assignment is especially helpful.
As Martha describes, we have a lizard brain whose main goal is just keeping us alive. When we dare to step out of line and reach towards something it deems risky-it attacks. A lizard brain attack results in complete dream dismissal.
Let this go on for long enough and you might wake up to find you’re a stranger in your own life.
Paying attention to what makes you feel free (shackles off) and what gives you the urge to dunk your head into a deep fryer (shackles on) is how you start uncovering that hidden, overgrown, potentially risky path your lizard brain has been hiding.
The Six-Week Experiment
Six weeks. That’s how long I gave myself. For six weeks I would diligently fill out two lists I’d set up on my phone. Anything that gave me that shimmery feeling of happiness, no matter how faint, would go on the list entitled, “Lights Me Up.” Those horrible, scratchy, tight-chested feelings went under, “Shuts Me Down.”
The first thing I noticed was how difficult it was to pay attention to these feelings. I’d spent so long making decisions based on what I thought was responsible, or expected of me, that I’d gotten into the habit of ignoring little joys and torturous whispers of despair in equal measure.
It felt silly listing trivial things like, “the smell of bookstores,” in my happy list. Or “fluorescent lighting” on the sad list. What was this going to tell me? That I should work in a bookstore by candlelight?!
But I persevered, and as the weeks rolled by I found delight in uncovering long-hidden yearnings and aversions.
Turns out I hated filling out forms and loved diving into research. Navigating the murkiness of unclear expectations made my blood boil, and I found perfect contentment whipping up an unhurried dinner.
My heart got all light and fluttery at the thought of writing. And sank faster than Leonardo Dicaprio in Titanic as I drove to work, knowing my butt had to stay in the same chair all day.
At the end of the six weeks, I looked over my lists. Would my destiny pop out, fully formed from this ramshackle assortment of likes and dislikes? Did I finally see the exact, perfect next move that would make all my dreams come true?
Well….no.
But, I did see a pattern.
An Exciting Discovery and an Urgent Plea
A picture started to emerge from all the clues I’d gathered. I saw a life where I worked from home doing something I could scale up and down as necessary. Non-traditional hours didn’t bother me, and after spending many years in the restaurant industry, neither did an inconsistent income.
These guideposts pointed me towards a path I absolutely didn’t want to take, but the evidence I collected over the last six weeks backed it up: I needed to be my own boss. Always seeing myself as somewhat risk-averse, this was an alarming discovery. But I knew it was my best chance of building that shackles-off kind of life.
Today I work harder than ever before. I learn and fumble and make mistakes. But any frustration I face doesn’t compare one bit to the despair of giving my energy to a job so out of line with who I am.
If you feel like your dreams gave up on you decades ago, I’m begging you to take six weeks and let them know you’re listening once again. Draw them out of your heart the way you would any timid, long-suffering little creature: with kind words and loving intent. Let them know it’s safe to sparkle and shine once again. That you’re paying attention this time.
I double-dog dare you to grab a piece of paper or open up a notebook app on your phone right now. Make two simple lists and write down those shackles-on/shackles-off feelings. No matter how insignificant you think the clues are, keep track. I promise you, they’ll light up the path that’s been waiting.
