Could you take on this extra project? Yes.
Could you sit on this committee with me? Yes.
Could you help plan the birthday party? Yes.
Could you watch the kids this weekend? Yes.
I was fully committed to being a "yes" person.
Because "yes" people were well-liked. They made the best family members. They made the best coworkers. They made the best friends.
So I said "yes."
But I wasn't saying "yes" to the only person who truly mattered.
I wasn't saying "yes" to me.
Until I fell flat on my face and discovered the true cost of saying "yes" to the wrong things.
So I switched my tactics.
And I learned a lot.
I learned who my real friends are.
Some people want you by their sides because they know they can count on you to push their projects further, faster. When you say "no," they distance themselves and look for others to rely on. Your real friends like who you become. They want to be there, share with you, learn with you, grow with you. It doesn't matter what changes you make -- they appreciate you. And they're the best friends you can have.
I learned what's important to me.
It takes time to learn what makes you tick. When I was doing everything for everyone else, I was too busy to notice what I wanted. When I slowed down and started saying "no," I had more time to think about what was important to me.
I learned to feel more fulfilled with my life.
When you do things for everyone else, you're always busy. When you do things for you, you take great satisfaction from every step you complete, every goal you achieve. You ask yourself what matters most. You only do what gives you true energy.
I learned to like silence.
The more you say "no," the more time you have to yourself. And while that can be difficult in the beginning, the more you get used to it, the more you appreciate it. Silence allows you to think. Silence allows you to plan. Silence allows you to see your life in an entirely different way.
I learned to relax.
You know that jumpy feeling you get when you're always on the run? If there's nothing to do, you feel like you're missing out on something. You get this nervous twitch that says you must be lazy if you have nothing to do. Your health doesn't agree. By saying "no" to being busy, you give yourself more time to contemplate your next step. And when you take time to think and enjoy each moment, you'll find the stress slowly goes away.
I learned be more present and in the now.
When you say "no" to the things that don't matter, you're more careful about saying "yes" to only the things that do. And when you choose the times you say "yes," you'll go in full force, ready to enjoy every moment of your chosen path. You learn to put everything else aside, and only focus on what matters most.
I learned to ignore the rhetoric.
There are things I can influence and things I can't. I can't change the way the world operates; I can't change politics or religion, or current events. So why pay attention to the nitty-gritty details that truly have no meaning? You learn how to focus only on the things that influence you the most.
I learned how to think.
Big ideas come when you give them the time they deserve. Running from place to place means you're constantly thinking about what's next. Relaxing and having time to just be gives you the energy to focus more deeply. It allows you to take your projects and your ideas to an entirely different level.
I learned how to sleep.
Many people say they can survive on three or four or five hours of sleep. You can. I've done it. But it makes me fall asleep when I sit still for a few moments. It makes me zone out when I relax. It never lets me feel my best. After repositioning my life so I could get seven or eight hours of sleep every day, I started to feel better, and give more to what I do.
I learned what I want to give.
When I was doing everything for everybody else, I had goal lists a mile long. I had to-do items that would take days, even weeks to complete. They were task-oriented and rich in detail. But the more in tune with myself I got, the shorter my list became. And the easier it became to see the difference between what was truly important... and the fluff.
A great writer. A loving wife. A caring mother. I clearly define my roles, and verify that everything I do helps to improve my life in one of those areas. I know when things aren't harmonious. I know when something doesn't fit. And I can change and adjust accordingly.
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