I have a confession.

Sometimes I think I enjoy looking forward to something almost as much as I enjoy the actual thing.

The dreaming. The planning. The lists. The excitement of imagining how wonderful it’s all going to be.

I love every bit of it.

Take planning a vacation, for example.

Long before the suitcases come out, I’ve already mentally packed them about seventeen times. I’ve looked at places to stay, imagined where we’ll eat, made lists of things I want to see, and probably spent an unreasonable amount of time looking at pictures of a place I haven’t even visited yet.

And the funny thing is, I genuinely enjoy doing all of that.

There’s something wonderful about sitting at home on an ordinary afternoon, imagining yourself somewhere completely different. Thinking about the adventures you’ll have, the food you’ll eat, and the memories you’ll make.

You haven’t even left the driveway, and somehow the vacation has already begun.

I felt the same way when I decided to update my kitchen.

I spent hours looking at countertop samples, choosing paint colors for the cabinets, and finding little things for the walls and shelves.

I’d bring samples home, hold them up in different places, change my mind, and then change it right back.

I’d imagine how everything would look when it was finished. Where I’d put things. How the colors would come together. What it would feel like to walk into my kitchen when everything was done.

And while I absolutely loved the day it all came together, I also loved dreaming about it.

Well, maybe not EVERY part. Home improvement projects have a funny way of testing your patience.

But you know what I mean.

And then there are the holidays.

Oh, the holidays.

If there’s one time of year when my love of anticipation really gets out of hand, it’s Christmas.

I love thinking about Christmas long before it’s socially acceptable to start talking about it.

The decorating ideas. The gifts I want to find. The meals we’ll share. The traditions I want to continue and the new ones I might start.

And don’t even get me started on Christmas cookies.

I can spend an entire afternoon thinking about which cookies I want to make, how I’ll decorate them, who I’ll share them with, and what they’ll look like all packaged up and ready to give away.

I love imagining the house decorated, the kitchen full of baking, and everyone gathered together.

Of course, the reality usually involves a kitchen that looks like a flour bomb exploded, at least one thing I forgot to buy, and me wondering why I thought making twelve different kinds of cookies was a reasonable idea.

But somehow, I love that part, too.

Because it’s all part of the excitement.

And I don’t think I’m alone in this.

Think about how much happiness we get from looking forward to things.

Planning a birthday party. Getting ready for a wedding. Choosing flowers for the garden. Thinking about a weekend with friends. Counting down the days until a grandchild comes to visit.

Even something as simple as deciding what you’re going to make for Sunday dinner can give you a little something to look forward to.

And isn’t that a wonderful thing?

We have the ability to enjoy something long before it ever happens.

Sometimes for weeks. Sometimes for months. Occasionally for an entire year.

And then, before we know it, the day we’ve been looking forward to finally arrives.

The vacation begins. The party comes together. Christmas morning arrives.

And it’s wonderful.

But then something funny happens.

It’s over.

The suitcases get unpacked. The decorations come down. The guests go home. The wrapping paper gets thrown away, and the last of the Christmas cookies disappear.

And there’s this strange little feeling that settles in.

Not necessarily sadness. Just a bit of a letdown.

All that excitement. All that preparation. All those weeks of looking forward to something.

And suddenly, it’s behind us.

I’ve felt it so many times. You spend months thinking about something, and then it’s over in what feels like five minutes.

But lately, I’ve started looking at that feeling a little differently.

What if the anticipation wasn’t simply the time we spent waiting for the wonderful thing to happen?

What if it was part of the wonderful thing itself?

Maybe the vacation wasn’t just the days we were away. Maybe it was also those evenings spent dreaming about where we’d go.

Maybe the celebration wasn’t just the few hours everyone was together. Maybe it was choosing the menu, finding the perfect gift, and imagining how happy everyone would be.

And maybe Christmas isn’t just Christmas morning.

It’s the music playing while we decorate the tree. The recipes we pull out every year. The gifts we wrap when everyone else has gone to bed. The excitement of knowing that people we love will soon be gathered around our table.

All those little moments count.

They’re not simply things we have to get through before the good part begins.

They ARE part of the good part.

Of course, I know there’s another side to all of this.

Sometimes the planning becomes overwhelming. We put so much pressure on ourselves to make everything perfect that we forget to enjoy the very things we were excited about in the first place.

I certainly know a thing or two about that.

There’s a fine line between happily planning Christmas and convincing yourself that everyone needs six kinds of cookies, perfectly wrapped presents, and a holiday meal that could feed the entire neighborhood.

And I’m learning that the secret isn’t necessarily doing less of the things I love.

It’s remembering why I love doing them.

I don’t spend hours thinking about Christmas cookies because anyone expects me to. I do it because I love imagining the people who will enjoy them.

I don’t plan gatherings because everything needs to look perfect. I do it because I love bringing people together.

And I don’t dream about vacations because my everyday life isn’t wonderful. I dream about them because it’s exciting to imagine all the experiences I haven’t had yet.

But there’s something else I’ve been thinking about.

I don’t want to become so good at looking forward that I forget to enjoy what’s right in front of me.

Because there is a difference between being excited about what’s coming and wishing away the days until it gets here.

I don’t want to spend October wishing it were Christmas. Or an ordinary Wednesday wishing it were the weekend. Or an entire season waiting for the next one to begin.

I want to enjoy the anticipation without missing the life that’s happening in between.

And maybe that’s where the real magic is.

Having something wonderful to look forward to while still recognizing that today has wonderful things of its own.

Which makes me wonder why we sometimes save all that excitement for the big occasions.

Why does it have to be Christmas? Or a vacation? Or a birthday?

Why can’t it be dinner with a friend next Thursday?

A new recipe we’re going to try this weekend?

An afternoon spent planting flowers?

Or an ordinary Tuesday when we decide to bake a cake for absolutely no reason at all?

I think having something to look forward to is one of life’s simplest pleasures.

And the best part is that it doesn’t have to be expensive, elaborate, or particularly important to anyone else.

It just has to matter to us.

Because when we give ourselves something to look forward to, we get to enjoy it before it happens, while it’s happening, and, if we’re lucky, every time we remember it afterward.

Three opportunities for happiness from one experience.

That’s a pretty wonderful return on our investment.

Maybe that’s one of the sweetest things about life.

We don’t have to wait for something wonderful to happen before we start enjoying it.

We can dream about it, plan for it, look forward to it, live it, and then tuck it away as a memory we’ll carry with us.

And somewhere in between all of that, we can remember to enjoy the ordinary days, too.

Because I don’t want to spend my whole life looking forward to living.

I want to love the life I’m living while I look forward to what’s next.

Even if what’s next is nothing more than a batch of cookies on a rainy Tuesday.

Sweet Wishes,

June

Come Gather With Me

If this story felt familiar, I’d love to have you join me. Gathered is my Sunday note about food, family, memories, and finding something meaningful in the ordinary moments of life.

Pull up a chair. There’s a place for you here. 🤍