Most days I pride myself on being an extremely disciplined person. I make my to-do list, I divvy up my time between tasks, I mark things off with a flourish and a self-congratulatory pat on the back. I manage expectations, I make lists and calendar entries for the smallest of things, I set intentions for every action and interaction (more on this in another month’s newsletter).
This is what it means to be a task-oriented person. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with being a task-oriented person.
But.
There is a dark side to this kind of personality.
A couple of weeks ago my second son celebrated his twelfth birthday. Once our sons reach middle school, we allow them the option to take a day off from school on their birthday—to spend however they want (within reason, of course). When my eighth grader took his day off last November, he spent the entire day live-streaming on YouTube while playing video games. That kind of day-long date with technology is not usually allowed in our home (my middle school sons get an hour of tech per day), but birthdays are yes days. As long as what they do doesn’t harm themselves, other people, or our budget, we try to say yes.
My second son chose a day full of activity. He asked my husband and me to join him.
I had so much to do—editing to finish, chapters to write, emails to send, things to read, research to do…on and on and on. A family dentist appointment had broken up the week, stolen two hours of my time, so I was already operating in catch-up mode, according to my to-do list.
Not only that, but my son’s birthday fell on a Tuesday, in the middle of a regular 36-hour fast for me. He wanted scones for breakfast and pizza for dinner, along with the cake I’d made him the day before.
“You’re going to eat today, aren’t you, Mama?” he said, after we sang “Happy Birthday.” He held up a lemon scone. “You have to taste this one.”
He knows I love lemon everything.
What could I say? I know what I wanted to say. No, I can’t join you today…I have so much to do, and I’ve already lost time this week. No, I’m not eating today; it’s a fasting day, and this is my routine and it will throw off the whole week if I do.
I agonize over discipline-disruptors like this. I think, What if I can’t recover? What if I keep getting farther and farther behind? What if this day off completely obliterates my motivation, which will obliterate my discipline, which will obliterate my forward progress?
It’s a little ridiculous when I see it laid out like that. When did discipline become synonymous with I must do it this way forever and ever and ever or else everything will fall apart?
My husband is the exact opposite. He has no problem shifting into “vacation” mode. He would probably live permanently in vacation mode if he didn’t have a job and family and responsibilities.
Something I’ve been trying to do this year is seize opportunities like this with both hands, as hard as it may be for me to let go of the things I need to do. Who knows how long this son will choose to spend his birthday with his mom and dad? Soon we’ll be replaced by friends. I want to hang out with him while he still enjoys our company.
So I did take the day off. We rode bikes to the neighborhood park, played an hour or so of tennis, worked on a puzzle, talked, went ice skating (his first time), and picked up his brothers from school together.
It was bliss.
And the next day? I got back to work.
Here is a thought exercise that often works for me when I find myself prioritizing tasks over my relationships:
Step one: Ask, If I take a day off, what might happen?
Most of the time the answer is nothing. Except you’ll probably have fun.
Step two: Ask, What might I miss if I don’t take a day off?
The answers vary, of course. We might miss building a deeper relationship with a friend or getting the adequate sleep we need to be productive the rest of our week or seeing our 12-year-old wipe out on the ice and get right back up with a laughing, “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow!” (Not as sore as me, son.)
Step three: Ask, What is more important: What might happen or what I’ll miss?
Sometimes what could happen might be worse—our job is compromised, we miss an important deadline, we leave someone in a bind. But many times what we’d miss (especially when it comes to relationships) is far greater than a hypothetical disaster.
