In 2024, I really want to get into playing the lottery. All the suckers play the numbers, so I'll commit to the scratch-offs.
In 2024, I will delete email. Not just the spam. Not just the endless list of men's clothing retailers who send bi-daily updates about Japanese socks because I once signed up to get that 5% discount. And not just the work-related emails that have nothing to do with me. No, in 2024, I'm deleting all email.
Even the app.
Can you imagine getting that Sunday night itch to check email, to see what the world/plague of locusts has done behind your back over the weekend, then just not finding the app anywhere on your phone? So you go to the computer and type in gmail.com or hotmail.com or aol.com (I SAY A-O-L-DOT-COM) and get the usually-cursed-but-now-blessed 404 error?
Then you can just go back to scrolling Instagram reels! Until that Slack notification comes up.
Think I'll delete Slack too.
And as a heads up, I'm deleting social media. (This is my preemptive strike in case I block you-you should post this same message to all your followers at the first of the year, just in case).
And while I'm at it, I'll delete all the apps I hate. Especially Phone. That Phone app stresses me out more than all the others. Surely someone has a hack that will give it that shaky negative sign that gives my thumb tap the power of the Thanos snap over the Phone app.
I probably should not do any of that. And you should not either.
But then again, the only resolution to which I'm truly committed in 2024 is deleting "Should".
Jessica Abel was the first person I heard refer to the "Should Monster".
As a coach for creatives, her audience includes folks who write, design, draw, paint, communicate through other media, but primarily, folks who feel, work and express themselves. And she knows that those people often feel the weight of expectation and obligation - not just placed upon themselves by friends, family, society - but by themselves.
"I should write a book."
"I shouldn't waste time writing a book when there are bills to pay."
Just like that, the Should Monster is born.
But the Should Monster isn't just the guilt we put on ourselves. No, the Should Monster is big enough to share with everyone.
My child should know better.
My spouse should know that I...
My family shouldn't expect me to...
My co-workers should...
That TPS report should be turned in with a cover sheet.
That solution I offered you should have worked.
You should not make New Years Resolutions.
It should have rained by now.
This train should not be parked here.
Should is sneaky.
Although we tend to use it on others, more than we realize, it's especially harmful when we use it on ourselves.
If I'm telling myself what I should and shouldn't do, I'm trying to be right and wrong at the same time.
I'm right enough to know the morally superior act, but wrong for not doing it. We are dis-integrating our selves.
I bristle at shoulds when given as free, unrequested advice. Feels like an anticipatory "I told you so" and not actual advice.
What's the difference between good advice and bad advice? Good advice is about you, bad advice is about me.
There's no shortage of advice in this Content-generation Generation. It's funny that the people who are the quickest to dole out health and financial tips are the ones who have learned the least. True wisdom is not trying to impress you, it's trying to help you. Both my grandfathers told me "Wear sunscreen and a wide-brimmed hat", not "You should probably wear sunscreen and a wide-brimmed hat". They weren't trying to get a sponsorship deal with complexion-enhancers, they were telling me the hard lesson learned from skin cancer.
Should is not a helping word, it's a control word. A handle on a weapon. Used to exert power by someone who is afraid they are losing something - control, authority, respect. And again and again, it's used by ourselves on ourselves. The challenge is how to react. Because the natural response is to say "it shouldn't be this way".
Should is sneaky.
So I'm going to stop should-ing and start willing.
When I hear "should" this year, I'll challenge the idea a little. "Why?" Seems like a lot of should ideas wither with a little challenge. If the answer goes to a negative place, I'll dismiss it. Trash it. It's a thing that needs to be gone. I'll put it away. It's a thing that takes up space until I do.
If it's good, true, kind, then I'll figure out how to make it a "will". Not out of moral obligation or fear of failure. Just because it's a good idea that will help.
I'm betting that challenging the shoulds in my mind will reduce the shoulds I hand out to others.