When “No Fun Till the Work Is Done” Becomes a Life Sentence
During my very first coaching session I announced, with saint‑level sincerity, “I want a life like my brother’s.”
Coach: Great! What exactly does that look like?
Me: Uhh… he just… looks happy?
Coach: Happy how?
Me: He has… fun.
Cue the awkward silence where I realized I could list my degrees, committees, and caffeine intake, but not a single fun thing I did for myself. Wife, mom of two, PhD candidate, nonprofit president, consultant, professor, my résumé was a Costco bulk pack of responsibility. My house motto? “No fun until the work is done.” Spoiler alert: the work is never done.
High Achievers’ Dirty Little Secret
I see the same face‑palm moment with clients all the time: they know what they don’t want (their current hamster wheel) but can’t name what they do want. Enter The Lighthouse Method by Stacey Kim, a permission slip for Type‑A overachievers to rediscover joy.
How It Works (Flashlight Not Included)
Past: What people, places, and moments once lit you up?
Present: Which tasks feel effortless because they play to your strengths?
Future: Where have you always dreamed of going or doing?
Pattern‑Spotting: Group similar sparks together and watch themes emerge.
My Fun List:
Social: Cousin night, theme parties, live sports
Solo: Coaching, writing, seashell hunting
Movement: Yoga, rollerblading, tennis‑and‑trash‑talk
Indulgence: Wine, fudge, pizza that requires a nap (And yes, “naps” count as cardio.)
Chill: Massage, fire‑pit hangs, church, meditation
Family: Board games, baking chaos, pool splash wars
Travel: Italy, Spain, Turks & Caicos, basically anywhere with carbs and coastline
Micro‑Fun Challenge
Don’t wait for a two‑week vacation. Block 15 minutes today: chat with a friend, dance in the kitchen, eat the good chocolate while nobody’s watching. Small pockets of joy compound faster than interest on a credit card.
Fun isn’t a reward for finishing life’s to-do list; it’s the high‑octane fuel that helps you finish anything at all. So grab your calendar, and your weed‑wacker spirit from last week’s post, and start carving out space for play. Your future self (and everyone you lead) will thank you.
Now, what’s first on your Fun List?