Tomorrow is February 29! Woo hoo! I don't remember what I did last year on February 29. Or the year before. Or the one before that. If you're on to me, you know it's because it only comes once every 4 years. But to tell the truth, I don't recall what I did 4 years ago on the last February 29.
I suppose if I was one of those people who celebrated a birthday only once every 4 years, it would feel different to me. But it's not different to me. I celebrate my birthday every single year. It's pretty much me taking off from work, eating cake and soaking in all the joy of everyone being focused on me. (Yeah, I struggle with center-of-the-world syndrome on my birthday.)
But I see February 29 coming and I feel like I should do something special with it. It's a gift. I know, I know every day is a gift, but this one is rare. It only happens once every 4 years. I look at this like those rare days when there is nothing on my calendar and nothing on my to-do list. When I see no meetings and no projects, I start to salivate like one of Pavlov's dogs at the sight of meat.
What can I accomplish with an extra day? In what way could I relax and celebrate the day away. I try to think of something that I wouldn't normally get to do, like a movie marathon or video-gaming the day away. What if I followed up a morning nap with a tasty lunch and an afternoon nap?
But this is where my problem arrives. Too often, I have looked to fill in any extra time with stuff that is focused on me. It would seem I suffer from centered-on-me syndrome more often than just my birthday. I wonder if you're feeling the same way.
We could choose to look at this extra day and ask what we can do for ourselves with this extra time. Or we could choose to look beyond ourselves. What if we offered something for someone else? I'm not talking about enormous long-term projects that will have you committed for the next several years. What if we focused on smaller ideas that might make someone's afternoon brighter? Or easier?
What if we didn't view all of our extra time as our extra time? If it's not about us, then our time is not ours alone. Perhaps, as we seek out ways to be less significant in our own eyes, we could use our time as a gift, and give it away.
I'm going to challenge us all today. Tomorrow is an extra day that we won't see for another 4 years. Find someone, anyone, and give up some part of your day (even 5-10 minutes). Then we'll come back on Thursday and report on how we did. Good luck everybody!
I suppose if I was one of those people who celebrated a birthday only once every 4 years, it would feel different to me. But it's not different to me. I celebrate my birthday every single year. It's pretty much me taking off from work, eating cake and soaking in all the joy of everyone being focused on me. (Yeah, I struggle with center-of-the-world syndrome on my birthday.)
But I see February 29 coming and I feel like I should do something special with it. It's a gift. I know, I know every day is a gift, but this one is rare. It only happens once every 4 years. I look at this like those rare days when there is nothing on my calendar and nothing on my to-do list. When I see no meetings and no projects, I start to salivate like one of Pavlov's dogs at the sight of meat.
What can I accomplish with an extra day? In what way could I relax and celebrate the day away. I try to think of something that I wouldn't normally get to do, like a movie marathon or video-gaming the day away. What if I followed up a morning nap with a tasty lunch and an afternoon nap?
But this is where my problem arrives. Too often, I have looked to fill in any extra time with stuff that is focused on me. It would seem I suffer from centered-on-me syndrome more often than just my birthday. I wonder if you're feeling the same way.
We could choose to look at this extra day and ask what we can do for ourselves with this extra time. Or we could choose to look beyond ourselves. What if we offered something for someone else? I'm not talking about enormous long-term projects that will have you committed for the next several years. What if we focused on smaller ideas that might make someone's afternoon brighter? Or easier?
What if we didn't view all of our extra time as our extra time? If it's not about us, then our time is not ours alone. Perhaps, as we seek out ways to be less significant in our own eyes, we could use our time as a gift, and give it away.
I'm going to challenge us all today. Tomorrow is an extra day that we won't see for another 4 years. Find someone, anyone, and give up some part of your day (even 5-10 minutes). Then we'll come back on Thursday and report on how we did. Good luck everybody!
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