My mom saves the used plastic utensils from get-togethers, washes them and then stores them for reuse at some undetermined time in the future. After our most recent Christmas gathering, she dug through the trash to reclaim the forks and spoons that her family members regarded as disposables. (Wasteful wretches!) Mom is neither a hobo nor a hippie, so actions like this aren’t coming from a conscious choice to save the Earth or out of need. She just has deeply engrained habits that were well established when being raised by parents of the Great Depression. In other words, I think she does this because she’s always washed and reused flatware, despite their medium, so she isn’t going to stop now.
Still yet, I try to nudge her to a life more of ease from time to time. Recently, when she grumbled about having too much to do and not wanting to attend a holiday get-together, I tried with the following advice: “Mom, it’s plain and simple. If you aren’t going to get joy from going then just politely decline.” The alternative was to complain and then still drag her feet to something she had already spewed negative energy all over, and that never does anyone any good. I didn’t include that last part in my plea to her, of course.
As soon as the words left my mouth, a feeling came over me. You know… the one that stops you in your tracks with an overwhelming feeling of, “Oh, crap.” I experienced the realization that seems to recur more often with each trip around the sun. Despite my lifetime’s dogged determination to be myself, I am still becoming my mother. I, too, had recently been asked to do two things that my gut was saying, “Nope!” to. Just like Mom, I could voice the reasons I wanted to decline ad nauseam but I had avoided pulling my big girl panties up and launching the plain and simple approach.
Over the course of my blogging career (I use the word “career” here very lightly), I’ve developed a healthy practice of not doing what I don’t want to do. And then writing about it. In The Strength to Say No, I reflected on my very firm and happy decision to sit out on my pre-paid snuba dive. (Snorkeling + Scuba Diving = Snuba Diving. It’s a thing). During the holiday season of 2018, I admitted to turning into the gym instead of the mall with only days left ’til Christmas and no gifts under the tree. That was a pretty bold, Me-First decision. These ‘nos’ were easy, though, because they were not connected to income.
Before painting became a full-time gig, I recall hearing a woman advise against turning a passion or hobby into a career. At the time, this was confusing. I sincerely thought the human goal was to get paid to do what you love. 3 years into owning The Woman Strong, I’ve moved closer to understanding her words. Turning down work is equivalent to turning down money, which isn’t exactly a fiscally smart move for a business. However, saying yes to the wrong jobs, meaning – the ones that don’t let passion flow, affects the heart.
So, back to my plain and simple. I was recently asked to paint a shop floor. No problem there – I love making spaces look prettier. A little research into the project, though, proved it would be more cost and time effective to cover the previously incorrectly painted, peeling floor. It wasn’t until I had the credit card in hand to purchase peel and stick flooring that it hit me. I’m a painter. I have installed sticky tiles in my own home, but that doesn’t quantify me to professionally lay floor. Around the same time, I was asked to paint 17′ high foyer walls. I own a 19′ extension ladder. I’m not scared of heights. I can do it, but standing at 5’1″, it’s not my strength or desire. My heart and gut were leaning towards no, but my mouth and my bank account hadn’t coalesced.
After my revelation while talking to Mom, both my aspiration to not be a hypocrite and to be at one with my heart prompted my politeful decline to both projects. However, my brain gave in to one last round of internal struggle before I could do so. This must have been similar to the guilt mom was feeling when she simply didn’t want to go to one more thing. My conscience questioned if my lack of discipline was the reason I wasn’t feeling these jobs. My parents didn’t raise me to turn down money! But…I bet my grandparents didn’t raise my mom to throw away used utensils either. And, Current Me is the most disciplined version of Me that I’ve known. Believe me, it takes a strong resolve to say no to cheese. I shook off the inclination guiding me to not follow my heart and instead heeded the words I’d heard before: If it’s not a “Hell yes!” then it’s a “Hell no!”
I let both of my customers know I wasn’t the right person for what they needed. It turned out they were both very understanding and had other projects that better fit my skill set. Me being me, I know I will still have those moments of gray, times when I don’t know if I want to or don’t want to do something. Reusing disposable kitchenware has absolutely never been a cause for my confusion, but supporting my step-son’s basketball team when the temperature feels like 8 degrees admittedly pulls me in two directions. I love him but I despise being cold. You get the gist. In these times, I’m practicing a moment of stillness to resonate with which would really make me happy. Although Balance has been my ‘Word for the Year’ for over 7 years now, it’s time for its retirement. My focus word for 2025? Joy.