Last Friday, I spent the morning printing out weekly work plans for the next month. These are sheets I try filling in to keep myself on track with the various writing and reading assignments ahead. Especially because I’m preparing for my next MFA residency in March (and need to turn in my book edits in mid-February), I have to be fairly diligent to plot out the work.
I get anxious when work piles up. For me, this looks like jerking awake at 2:18am and lying there, for at least an hour, to a muffled soundtrack of worry. It’s not loud enough to remind me of anything specific. It’s more like the static of quiet panic.
It’s interesting to have spent the last couple of years (and probably, most of my adult life) preoccupied with questions of time: how to manage it, how to multiply it, how to make it bend to my demands. I once believed in my capacities to beat time at its game. But especially after two years of pandemic, I’ve lost a lot of that bluster and bravado.
There simply isn’t time for everything.
My sister-in-law and brother-in-law recently visited with their kids from Chicago, and Laura shared with me something she’d heard, relevant to time and its limits, on a podcast. (Sorry, I have no source here.) She said this person suggested that in order to live into our priorities well, we should consider a YES-NO-YES approach.
First, say YES to what really matters. For Christians, this requires discernment formed in prayer, in regular Scripture reading, in community. With this YES more clearly in mind, we can say NO to what might distract from those priorities.
All of that is obvious, I know. But here’s the interesting part. After you’ve found yourself possibly saddened by that necessary NO (and the good, worthwhile invitations you’ve turned down), you’re invited to look for a smaller YES you might say.
As an example in my own life recently, I’ve been saying a big YES to some family demands that have required time on the phone, a considerable amount of problem-solving, and even some travel. I’m quite sure this is an important YES to say. As a Christian, I feel the weight of responsibility for my family and extended family, believing the seriousness of what the apostle Paul wrote in 1 Timothy: “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”
But the time I’ve spent shouldering this new YES hasn’t just materialized from thin air. I’ve had to make room for it. I’ve had to find my NO—and I did, when I decided to let go of an important volunteer responsibility at church. Nothing had changed about my desire to continue being involved with this particular ministry. I just no longer had the time.
So: I said no. Well, the truth is that the first couple of times, I said it too softly. I was wavering, hesitating. Then, realizing that I felt frustrated by the response, I finally just decided on a date after which I could no longer be counted on to show up. On the one hand, I felt relieved by my own decisiveness. And on the other, I was terrified by the prospect of regret.
What was my YES after my NO? Well, I realized my date included that smaller YES. I didn’t say, “Goodness, life is getting crazy, and I’m going to have to quit NOW.” Instead, I set a date a bit into the future and said YES to some specific things I could do leading up to that date.
I guess the point of all this is: if time really is limited, it’s going to be necessary to say no, and it will often feel hard.
But maybe we can find a smaller yes, secreted somewhere. A yes that values the invitation and the person extending it.
A small yes of generosity.
Jen
P.S. Speaking of noes, I’ll be off next week, saying an important YES elsewhere. I’ll be back on Feburary 7th!