This was going to be a very different post – I started drafting it early in the morning when I have some quiet time before the morning school routine starts. And it was going to be all about the sweetness of Wordle, including:
- How the guy who created it did so for his partner’s enjoyment during the pandemic.
- How he doesn’t want to capture your info or make you download an app and that so far, it’s just a creative act of generosity.
- How the WHOLE English speaking world is guessing the SAME word each day.
- And goodness, how even the name of the game is wordplay on the creator’s own last name.
Oh… the possibilities that exist (5 letter word) when you get to choose ANY five letter word to start (another 5 letter word). The joy of that tiny dopamine hit when the tiles flip green. And the rush when ALL the tiles turn green. The sweet anticipation of knowing you cannot play again for another 12-15 hours. Imagining Wordle world unity and…. I could go on!!
Then I went downstairs.
And so now, the BIG TAKEAWAY of this whole email is to get this little ditty looping through your brain: We don’t talk about Wordle, no, no, no. We don’t talk about Wordle!
Because, I talked about Wordle. I was just so excited about it. So excited, I hadn’t even played yet because I woke up wanting to tell everyone about the delightful distraction. And my very loving, very tuned into me husband, listened and simply responded to my yammering on by saying, “3”.
IFKYK and if you don’t know, well… getting 3 is a pretty great score and so just know… gauntlet thrown. And now I REALLY couldn’t wait to play, but I had to wait, because, well… uniform shirts, water bottles, back packs, lunches, toothbrushing, masks, mittens, and boots were now the priority.
And frankly, playing a word game in a quiet house with a hot cup of coffee is my happy place. Frankly-er, it was my only shot at beating my husband’s score.
Before I knew it though, there was a buzz from my son’s room. The competitive one (where’s he get that?) who is also painfully curious (🤔) decided to finish breakfast quickly so he could play.
You see where this is going.
Even my not-so-sweet shouts of “WE DON’T TALK ABOUT WORDLE” did not help. And the joy dissipated quickly as I lectured the spoilermaker on boundaries and the importance of respecting people’s space. So much for fun and games.
It’s now the next day. And I can laugh about it when yesterday morning, I really could not. But it’s clear to me: we need simple joys right now. Tiny places of respite. Ordinary and delightful daily routines. What are yours?
My coaching friend and colleague Sarah Moore-Nokes and I have teamed up to offer the Tiny Sabbatical Project for just this reason. We start February 7 and the four week mini-course is designed to help you ease into reclaiming some creative energy by starting small.
I really hope you’ll join us! Because you can’t be good for the world if you aren’t good to yourself.