Backstory: I have such good intentions, but then so often I’m “too busy”. This nudge is about shaking up the routine.

After I pulled this nudge this morning, I thought about my options. The obvious choice for me is to head to the backyard (I work from home even when we aren’t sheltering-in-place). Back in my corporate days, I would find a place to sit in a courtyard, near a fountain, perhaps. In a perfect world, of course, I’d find a pretty spot in a park or on the beach.

Speaking of the sheltering-in-place, my husband and I got creative when we wanted to get out. A few times we picked up sandwiches to go, found a spot with a view of the Pacific Ocean, and had a “picnic” in the car. This would fulfill this nudge too.

If none of the above work, at the very least, I can open a window.

Hope you can get out this week.

What Happened: The day started like so many others. I faced a long to do list of work, household, and personal projects. I ate breakfast while standing at the kitchen counter and multitasking. In between nibbles and sips, I emptied and reloaded the dishwasher, fed the dog, checked the headlines, planned the menu for dinner, made mental notes about this ‘n’ that….

As lunch time came (and whooshed by), I was tempted to do more of the same…until I remembered this nudge. I put my food on a real plate and headed to the cute little bistro table in my backyard.

For a few minutes I allowed myself to stop and enjoy an unrushed meal.

The Ah-Hahs: Though it was fairly uninspired menu of leftovers, I actually tasted and enjoyed my food. I slowed my breathing. I listened to the birds and felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. I read a few pages of a novel. I thought about things other than the afternoon’s deadlines.

Specifically, I brought back memories of the days when most of my meals were taken outside. (Granted, that was when I lived in Southern California and the weather cooperated.) I routinely started the day with a cup of tea on the front porch. Lunch on the back patio. Dinner under the blooming crepe myrtle tree.

One of my favorite annual events was what I called the French Picnic. I invited a handful of friends over, asking each to bring a Francophile dish. Champagne, tarts, freshly baked bread, seasonal fruits, and simple proteins appeared. We dragged my full-size dining table into the front yard and covered it with the cloth from Provence and small vases filled with lavender. We shared the food, we shared stories. We shared our lives.

Over these past few months, as we’ve practiced strict social distancing, conversations with family and friends have included the question: “What do you want to do most when this is over?”

I finally have my answer.