
Good Idea
It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time!
On my 21st birthday I found myself sitting next to my brother in the backseat of a police cruiser somewhere in Montana. Apparently, we’d had just a smidge too much fun celebrating my coming of age. We had been skiing all day with college friends when we connected with a bunch of Canadians who thought it would be real fun to show us Americans what true celebration really looked like. It was a night to remember, though I recall very little of it. I’ll leave the details of what I do remember out; but suffice to say—it all seemed like a good idea at the time.
Fortunately, it was 1982, we were in Montana (a state that hadn’t quite caught up to the rules of the rest of the country), and our parents were spared a midnight phone call back in Seattle. The kind officers gave us an obligatory reprimand and even wished me a happy birthday as they dropped us off in the parking lot of our hotel. No harm done. Just one more story to tuck into the family archives.
Looking back, it’s probably not my proudest moment, but it sure was fun. And for years, I wouldn’t have even shared this story in mixed company for fear of being judged by—you know—those people who judge.
What I see now is that sharing the moments when I didn’t exactly make the best choices often creates the very opening someone else needs. Because when we admit our “not-so-great-ideas,” we give others permission to breathe, to laugh at their own, and maybe even to realize they’re not alone in wondering how they got here.
Here’s the thing: we’ve all done things that seemed like good ideas at the time. Things we’ve said. Career choices made. Relationships (and even marriages) we walked into. The list is endless.
And yet—somewhere along the way, we start believing that if we acted on an idea, we’re sentenced to it for life. That job. That relationship. That version of ourselves. Even if it’s long stopped working. Even if it’s sucking the air out of us.
That’s where misery creeps in. It feels like standing in the middle of an intersection when every light is red—not moving forward, not turning back, just caught in the in-between, holding your breath.
If that’s where you are right now—stunned, stuck, or holding on to something that once seemed like a good idea but no longer fits—I want you to know this: you don’t have to stay there. Life isn’t a sentence. It’s a series of choices. And you always get another chance to choose again.
The question is: will you?
If you’re tired of feeling stuck in yesterday’s “good idea” and you’re ready to breathe again, let’s talk. Sometimes all it takes is one conversation to see that you are not bound to the past—you are free to step into what’s next.
Schedule your free consultation call today.
Love & Light,