You Don't Have That Kind Of Time

You have to decide what your highest priorities are and have the courage – pleasantly, smilingly, non-apologetically – to say ‘no’ to other things. And the way to do that is by having a bigger ‘yes’ burning inside - Stephen Covey

In her book, Bird By Bird, writer Anne Lamott tells the story of going dress shopping with her best friend Pammy. Anne is 38-years-old at the time and looking for an outfit that would impress her current boyfriend. Pammy is the same age and dying of breast cancer. When Anne emerges from the dressing room wearing a short, tight dress and asks if the dress makes her hips look big, Pammy says, “Oh, Annie, you don’t have that kind of time …”

Whether it’s my age or the amount of loss I’ve experienced, I think of that phrase all the time now. Sometimes, it’s what shakes me out of my daze as I’m procrastinating, reading posts Facebook or shopping online at Chico’s for a pair of earrings I don’t really need.

In other moments, “you don’t have that kind of time” reminds me to do something I truly enjoy like reading the most recent of Louise Penny’s Three Pines mystery novels, catching up on the latest episode of Ozark or curling up in the brown recliner with Buster. I know all too well how life can change in an instant, yet it’s still so easy to get caught up in work, racing to an imaginary finish line that exists only in my own mind.

I have pages of ideas of pieces I want to write for OnTarget Consulting’s blog, lists of people to interview for my work on grief in the workplace and “to do” lists scattered across my desk. Projects and work I couldn’t complete in two lifetimes.

You don’t have that kind of time …

So I take a deep breath, blow it out and give myself permission to do what I can instead of what I think I should. Sometimes that means hibernating all day in my office. Sometimes that means filling my days with people, activities and conversations that bring me joy.

My son Jimmy’s cancer diagnosis and death remind me to say ‘no’ to offers I don’t have time for or, more accurately, aren’t that interested in. With Pammy’s wise words as my mantra, I am learning to extract myself gracefully from people, projects, situations and commitments that don’t turn out to be who or what I expected or wanted. Bowing out gently instead of breaking glass. Preserving the relationship instead of making direct or hurtful statements. Focusing on being kind or making a difference instead of getting caught up in counting my social media followers or trying to meet someone else’s definition of success. Finding my way. Making mistakes. Beginning again.

© Margo Fowkes, 2021. All rights reserved.