F73 — ARE YOU WISHING YOUR LIFE AWAY?

Always looking forward to what's next — but what about right now?

Do you remember being a child and counting down the days until Christmas?

The excitement.

The anticipation.

The almost unbearable wait.

Then Christmas arrived.

And approximately seventeen minutes after opening your presents, you were wondering what was happening next.

Perhaps it was your birthday.

The Easter holidays.

The summer holidays.

A family trip.

Or simply the weekend.

We spent an extraordinary amount of childhood looking forward to things.

And then we grew up.

And carried on doing exactly the same thing.

Only now we're counting down to Friday evening.

The next holiday.

A wedding.

A birthday celebration.

The children finishing their exams.

The mortgage being paid off.

Retirement.

Or that glorious, mythical period when life finally becomes less busy.

There's always something on the horizon.

Something to look forward to.

Something that promises a little more happiness than whatever we're doing today.

And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But here's an interesting question.

If we're always waiting for the next good thing, are we accidentally wishing most of our lives away?

Thank goodness it's Friday

There's something rather wonderful about Friday afternoon.

The working week is nearly over.

The weekend stretches ahead.

There may be plans.

Friends.

Family.

A lie-in.

Perhaps a glass of wine.

Or simply the prospect of not having to set an alarm.

For many people, Friday represents freedom.

But think about what that means.

If we spend Monday wishing it were Tuesday, Tuesday wishing it were Wednesday, Wednesday wishing it were Thursday and Thursday waiting for Friday, we're effectively wishing away a significant proportion of our lives.

Every single week.

And that's before we've started counting down to our holidays.

Of course, if you genuinely dislike your job or have a particularly difficult week, looking forward to the weekend is understandable.

The point isn't that we should adore Monday mornings.

It's whether we've become so accustomed to anticipating the next enjoyable moment that we've stopped noticing anything worthwhile in the days between.

The pleasure of looking forward

Let's be clear about something.

Anticipation can be wonderful.

Sometimes the pleasure of looking forward to an experience is almost as enjoyable as the experience itself.

Planning a holiday.

Imagining where you'll go.

Looking at restaurants.

Thinking about what you'll wear.

Wondering what it will be like.

The anticipation becomes part of the enjoyment.

Research on happiness and experiences suggests that anticipating enjoyable events can contribute positively to wellbeing.

And studies of reward processing show that expectation and motivation are important parts of how we respond to potential rewards.

So there's no need to stop looking forward to things.

Having something enjoyable in the diary can brighten an otherwise difficult week.

The problem arises when anticipation becomes our main source of happiness.

When we're always mentally living in the future.

And the present becomes little more than something to get through.

Looking forward to life is wonderful. But so is remembering to live it while you're waiting.

The holiday countdown

Consider the annual summer holiday.

Perhaps you've been looking forward to it for months.

You've researched the destination.

Booked the accommodation.

Bought the clothes.

Organised the travel.

Counted down the weeks.

Then the days.

Finally, you're there.

And it's wonderful.

Well, mostly.

There may be delayed flights, lost luggage, family disagreements and someone complaining about the temperature of the swimming pool.

But nevertheless, you're away.

And then something interesting happens.

A few days into the holiday, you begin thinking about how little time is left.

"Only five more days."

"Only three more days."

"I can't believe we're going home on Saturday."

Suddenly, you're not simply enjoying the holiday.

You're worrying about it ending.

We can become so preoccupied with the future that we even struggle to enjoy the thing we've been looking forward to.

It's a rather impressive trick.

We've spent six months wishing the holiday would arrive.

And now it's arrived, we're thinking about when it will be over.

The problem with 'I'll be happy when…'

There are certain phrases worth paying attention to.

"I'll be happy when work calms down."

"I'll be happy when I've lost weight."

"I'll be happy when the children are older."

"I'll be happy when we've paid off the mortgage."

"I'll be happy when I retire."

These statements may contain perfectly reasonable hopes.

Less stress.

Better health.

More freedom.

Financial security.

But they can also create a condition for happiness.

As though enjoyment is something we can only access once a particular problem has been solved.

And life has an inconvenient habit of presenting new problems.

We reach one milestone.

Then another appears.

We achieve something.

Then our expectations shift.

We get through a difficult period.

Then something else requires our attention.

Perhaps the question isn't whether the future will be better.

Perhaps it's whether we can find some enjoyment in the present without waiting for everything to be resolved.

Why ordinary days can feel so ordinary

Most of life isn't made up of extraordinary events.

It's made up of ordinary days.

Getting up.

Making breakfast.

Working.

Shopping.

Cooking.

Driving.

Walking the dog.

Doing the washing.

Replying to messages.

Sorting out things that need sorting out.

Occasionally wondering how it's possible that the dishwasher needs emptying again.

There are responsibilities.

Routines.

Repetition.

And sometimes a fair amount of boredom.

It's hardly surprising that we look forward to something different.

Novelty can be exciting.

Holidays and celebrations offer a break from routine.

They give us something to anticipate.

But ordinary life isn't necessarily devoid of pleasure.

Sometimes we're simply too busy, distracted or preoccupied to notice it.

The small things we barely register

Think about an ordinary day.

Perhaps you enjoy your first cup of coffee.

A conversation with a friend.

A walk outside.

A song on the radio.

A good meal.

A funny message.

A moment of peace.

The satisfaction of finishing something.

The feeling of getting into bed after a long day.

None of these is particularly spectacular.

They're unlikely to feature in a glossy holiday brochure.

But they can make life more enjoyable.

The trouble is that we often rush straight past them.

We're drinking our coffee while checking emails.

Walking while worrying about tomorrow.

Eating while scrolling through our phones.

Talking to someone while thinking about what we need to do next.

The experience is happening.

But our attention is somewhere else.

Sometimes the difference between an ordinary moment and an enjoyable one is whether we actually notice it.

The psychology of savouring

Psychologists use the term savouring to describe ways people attend to, appreciate and sometimes enhance positive experiences.

Savouring can involve looking forward to something.

Enjoying it while it happens.

Or remembering it afterwards.

In other words, pleasure doesn't have to be confined to the event itself.

You can enjoy planning a holiday.

Enjoy the holiday.

And enjoy remembering it.

But savouring also applies to smaller experiences.

A good conversation.

A lovely meal.

A beautiful view.

A moment of laughter.

It doesn't require you to pretend everything is wonderful.

It simply means allowing yourself to appreciate something enjoyable when it occurs.

Perhaps instead of immediately reaching for your phone while drinking your morning coffee, you actually taste it.

Revolutionary, I know.

Why busyness makes enjoyment difficult

One of the challenges of modern life is that we're often doing several things at once.

We eat while working.

Listen to podcasts while driving.

Answer messages while watching television.

Think about tomorrow while trying to fall asleep.

And spend much of our time mentally preparing for the next task.

Sometimes multitasking is practical.

But constant distraction can make it difficult to experience what's happening around us.

Research into mind-wandering suggests that attention frequently shifts away from our current activity, and that this can be associated with lower momentary happiness, although the relationship is complex and not every form of mind-wandering is harmful.

Our minds are extraordinarily good at travelling into the future.

Planning.

Predicting.

Anticipating.

Worrying.

But perhaps we occasionally need to invite them back.

Not for the entire day.

Just long enough to enjoy the cup of tea.

When life becomes one long to-do list

Have you ever reached the end of a day and felt that you've been busy from morning until night but haven't actually enjoyed any of it?

You've achieved things.

Completed tasks.

Dealt with responsibilities.

Kept everything moving.

But the day has felt like a series of obligations.

And tomorrow looks much the same.

When life becomes dominated by tasks, pleasure can start to feel optional.

Something we'll get around to when everything else is finished.

But perhaps enjoyment deserves a place in the diary too.

Not necessarily a major event.

Perhaps lunch with a friend.

A walk.

An exercise class you enjoy.

Time to read.

An evening doing something creative.

Or simply half an hour without feeling responsible for everybody else's needs.

A life filled entirely with responsibilities may be productive, but it isn't necessarily satisfying.

The strange business of time passing

There's something particularly poignant about this subject as we get older.

When we're young, time can feel endless.

We can't wait to be eighteen.

Twenty-one.

Finished with education.

Established in our careers.

Married.

Parents.

Homeowners.

Then, somewhere along the way, we begin to notice how quickly the years seem to pass.

The children who were once desperate for Christmas morning are suddenly adults.

The family holidays we spent months planning become memories.

The ordinary school runs, packed lunches and chaotic mornings that once felt endless disappear.

And sometimes we find ourselves missing the very things we were once desperate to get through.

The noise.

The mess.

The constant demands.

The people who needed us.

Not every moment was wonderful.

Some were exhausting.

Some were frustrating.

Some involved standing in the kitchen wondering how one small household could produce so much washing.

But they were part of our lives.

And perhaps we didn't always realise how temporary they were.

Sometimes the ordinary days we rush through become the days we later wish we could revisit.

The danger of romanticising the present

Now, before we become overwhelmed with nostalgia, let's acknowledge something.

Not every stage of life is enjoyable.

Some periods are genuinely difficult.

Illness.

Grief.

Financial pressure.

Relationship problems.

Exhaustion.

Caring responsibilities.

Unhappiness at work.

During those times, looking forward to something better can provide hope.

And hope matters.

We don't need to find beauty in every difficult experience.

Nor should we feel guilty for wanting a hard period to end.

Sometimes the present is something we're doing our best to get through.

That's human.

The aim isn't to insist that every moment must be appreciated.

It's simply to avoid overlooking the good moments that may exist alongside the difficult ones.

The weekend doesn't have to carry the whole burden

Here's an interesting thought.

What if we stopped expecting the weekend to provide all our enjoyment?

Perhaps we could make ordinary weekdays slightly more pleasant.

Not dramatically.

We're not suggesting that every Wednesday should involve champagne and a helicopter ride.

But perhaps we could introduce small things to look forward to during the week.

A favourite exercise class.

Dinner with a friend.

A walk somewhere lovely.

A new recipe.

An evening without work.

A regular phone call.

A hobby.

Something that breaks up the routine.

If we can create small moments of enjoyment throughout the week, perhaps Monday to Thursday won't feel quite so much like an obstacle course on the way to Friday.

What does the psychology tell us?

Several areas of research help explain the relationship between anticipation, attention and enjoyment.

Anticipation and reward: Looking forward to positive experiences can be pleasurable in itself. Reward-related processes involve both motivation and the experience of pleasure, which are related but distinct.

Savouring: Research suggests that deliberately attending to positive experiences — before, during and after they occur — can support positive emotions and wellbeing.

Hedonic adaptation: People often adjust to changes in their circumstances, including positive ones. Something that initially feels exciting can gradually become familiar.

Mind-wandering: Research has explored how frequently our attention moves away from the present and how this relates to momentary happiness.

Mindfulness: Paying attention to present-moment experiences can help some people become more aware of their thoughts, feelings and surroundings, although mindfulness isn't universally enjoyable or appropriate in every situation.

Time perspective: The way we think about past, present and future experiences can influence motivation, choices and wellbeing.

None of this means we should stop planning or anticipating the future.

It simply suggests that our relationship with the present deserves attention too.

A little coaching reflection

Think about how you experience an ordinary week.

1. What am I currently looking forward to?

What events, experiences or milestones are on the horizon?

2. How much of my time do I spend wishing I were somewhere else?

Am I regularly counting down to the weekend, holidays or the next stage of life?

3. What do I enjoy about my ordinary days?

What small moments bring pleasure, comfort, connection or satisfaction?

4. Which enjoyable moments do I tend to overlook?

Am I distracted, rushing or thinking about something else?

5. What am I telling myself will make life better in the future?

Is there anything I could begin enjoying now?

6. What might I miss about this stage of life one day?

Even if it's busy, imperfect or difficult?

7. How could I make an ordinary week more enjoyable?

What small changes would make a difference?

Try this: The ordinary day experiment

For the next seven days, notice three things.

Something you looked forward to.

It might be a meal, a conversation, a walk or simply getting into bed.

Something you enjoyed while it was happening.

A moment when you felt interested, relaxed, amused, connected or content.

Something you appreciated afterwards.

Perhaps a conversation, a completed task or a small experience that made the day better.

You don't need to write an essay.

A few words are enough.

DayLooked forward toEnjoyed in the momentAppreciated afterwardsMondayTuesdayWednesdayThursdayFridaySaturdaySunday

At the end of the week, reflect.

Were there more enjoyable moments than you expected?

Were some days genuinely difficult?

Did you notice things you might otherwise have overlooked?

And was there anything you could make more room for?

This isn't an exercise in compulsory gratitude.

You don't need to find three wonderful things every day.

Sometimes one small pleasure is enough.

And sometimes a day is simply hard.

The aim is curiosity, not perfection.

A final thought

Life gives us wonderful things to look forward to.

Birthdays.

Holidays.

Celebrations.

Adventures.

Milestones.

New beginnings.

And anticipation can make those experiences even more enjoyable.

But between all those special occasions are thousands of ordinary days.

Tuesdays.

Wednesdays.

Rainy afternoons.

School runs.

Workdays.

Quiet evenings.

Days when nothing particularly exciting happens.

And those days aren't simply the gaps between the important bits.

They are the important bits too.

They're where relationships develop.

Where conversations happen.

Where habits are formed.

Where we laugh.

Learn.

Love.

Grow.

And live.

Perhaps we don't need to stop looking forward to the future.

Perhaps we simply need to stop treating the present as something to get through before real life begins.

Enjoy the holiday countdown.

Look forward to Friday.

Plan the birthday celebration.

Dream about retirement.

But don't forget to notice the life that's happening while you're waiting.

Because one day, you may look back and realise that some of your happiest memories came from days you thought were completely ordinary.

If we're always waiting for the next good thing, we may be overlooking the good things that are already here.

And as for Tuesday afternoons?

No, they don't all need to be magical.

But perhaps we could occasionally give them a fighting chance.

Sources and further reading

• Bryant, F. B. & Veroff, J. (2007). Savoring: A New Model of Positive Experience. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

• Van Boven, L. & Ashworth, L. (2007). Looking Forward, Looking Back: Anticipation Is More Evocative Than Retrospection. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 136(2), 289–300.

• Kumar, A., Killingsworth, M. A. & Gilovich, T. (2014). Waiting for Merlot: Anticipatory Consumption of Experiential and Material Purchases. Psychological Science, 25(10), 1924–1931.

• Killingsworth, M. A. & Gilbert, D. T. (2010). A Wandering Mind Is an Unhappy Mind. Science, 330(6006), 932.

• Brickman, P. & Campbell, D. T. (1971). Hedonic Relativism and Planning the Good Society. In Adaptation-Level Theory: A Symposium. Academic Press.

• Carstensen, L. L., Isaacowitz, D. M. & Charles, S. T. (1999). Taking Time Seriously: A Theory of Socioemotional Selectivity. American Psychologist, 54(3), 165–181.

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