So I was e-mailing a few friends about getting together when a revelation occurred.
It was one of those “ah-ha” moments you hear about on Oprah but wonder if something like this ever happens to mere billionaire-challenged mortals who don’t spend much time thinking about “living their best lives” by ascribing to self-help philosophy because they are too busy, well, living their lives, best or not.
The more I think about it, the more I see how flawed the situation was.
How it was so perfectly set up for failure.
Yes, failure.
Indeed, it’s so clear now, looking back.
The picture is coming into focus.
I’m beginning to see the light (cue the orchestra or, for that matter, any Joni Mitchell song).
I’ll cut to the end first. My friend’s e-mailed reply was “No.” She diplomatically declined getting together, saying she just couldn’t take on one more thing.
Whoa. One more thing? Since when is having fun with friends considered one more thing?
I’ll tell you when.
It’s when your overscheduled exhausted Blackberry is overloaded to the point you can’t add alarms for more meetings so you won’t forget them or else your whole day will be ringing.
It’s when you’ve maxed out your emotional Palm Pilot so much you can’t stop sobbing over an “Extreme Makeover” that aired three days ago. And everyone on the show was still living. It was one of those bonus episodes.
It’s when, between being wife/husband, mom/dad, daughter/son, friend/acquaintance, co-worker/boss, volunteer/leader, you crawl into bed, bone tired, can’t even read one page in your book without nodding off. You simply collapse. With the lights left on. In your work clothes.
It’s when you call the vet to make an appointment for your dog and the receptionist reminds you, ever so gently, that you just brought Fido in two weeks ago, don’t you remember? Then, she asks sweetly in a lyrical and youthful voice because she is young and probably sleeps eight hours a night, “Do you have another Fido who needs his shots?”
No, honey. Just a worn-out middle-aged mama who needs somethin’ stronger than a shot, thank you.
Oh, were we talking about my friend?
What’s wrong with this picture? One more thing?
I so get that.
Why was I e-mailing instead of picking up the phone to call my friends? Here’s what’s more shameful: It wasn’t even a personal invitation. I was asking my friends to attend an event for my job.
Revelation time.
When my friend sent her reply, I got it. Truly. Good for her. Because her “no” was really a “yes” to self-preservation.
Yes to minimizing the overload. Yes to fewer obligations.
We should each try to live more of our “personal yes” this year. Wouldn’t that be nice? Hey, I like that. Living our yes is living our best.
Oprah, are you listening?
Nahhh. She’s probably too busy.