A New Relationship with Time (aka Saying “NO”)

During my last two years of working full-time, I also taught pilates about six hours a week, sometimes more.  In addition, I was involved with a not-for-profit social justice group and attended weekly meetings. I also published a weekly newsletter for the group, which I wrote and edited with two other people. Often, I did the bulk of the work on the newsletter - writing feature stories and editorials, creating graphics, formatting advertisements, and managing the subscriber list.  It often consumed more than ten hours/week.  Add to this caring for my elderly mother.  My “work” outside of work consumed as much as twenty hours/week and everything other than pilates was for no money.  The newsletter work did give me an opportunity to learn new tools and skills.

When I got laid off, my first instinct was to find another job (i.e., have a steady paycheck).  I eventually got over that idea, and decided to collect Social Security and continue teaching pilates part-time.  Initially, I continued to work on the newsletter, but also started a business (Riff on Jobs) with my colleague, Alex, and this has consumed considerable time.  My current income is about one-quarter of what I used to make.  I shouldn’t complain, though, because I recovered the 40-50 hours a week that my day job used to occupy.  With all this new time on my hands, I should be available for any number of new projects.  But I’m not.  It isn’t that I don’t have time to take things on; it’s that I choose not to.  Now that I don’t have a steady paycheck, every single hour I spend is precious.  My time needs to be either producing income or providing other personal rewards.  It’s great when I get both of those at the same time; a twofer.  

Ironically, I now find myself saying “no thank you” more than I used to.  I have also said, “I’m sorry, but I have other priorities right now.”  I no longer work on the social justice newsletter that used to consume large chunks of my time.  I loved doing the work for almost three years, especially the writing.  Unfortunately, it became increasingly clear to me that my values were no longer aligned with the organization and I could not freely express my point of view.  To continue to write and edit would have been hypocritical.  Certainly, in life, most of us have had jobs or have done work at some point for individuals or organizations that may not have fully reflected our values.  However, generally for career or financial reasons, we stuck it out until we could safely leave without jeopardy to health or family.   We were compensated financially.  Priorities change when we are voluntarily giving our time.  When I recognized the shift in the organization I was part of, I realized that I could no longer support it and be true to myself.   When one of the organization’s members tried to convince me to stay, I explained how precious every moment of my time is now that I don’t have a steady paycheck, and that I was only willing to spend time on projects that are meaningful to me. It’s hard to believe that it took me more than 60 years to learn how to value my time and say “no.”  Fortunately for me, when Alex and I formed Riff on Jobs, we started with our newsletter and blogs, so I continue to have the gratification of writing and editing, and also have been inspired learning a variety of social media and AI tools.  In addition, I started my own more -personal blog that speaks to my values and personal experiences, unrelated to Riff on Jobs (though occasionally they might overlap).

Essentially, I have a new relationship with time.  While you can’t put a dollar value on it, time, like money, should not be squandered.  As we get older, time unfortunately seems to move much more quickly.  I remember waiting to turn 21, so I would be old enough to order a glass of wine with dinner.  For years, many of my friends were older than I was, so the wait to be officially considered an “adult” seemed like an eternity. By contrast, progressing from 40 to 50 to 60 seems to have happened way too fast. 

My favorite book as a child was “A Wrinkle in Time,” which included the concept of a “tesseract,” essentially a fourth dimension, a fold in the fabric of time, a literal wormhole or “portal.”  I could have fun for hours fantasizing about changing the world by traveling through time. Unfortunately, I have no personal experience with time travel, so the next best thing is to make the most of the time I do have.  This means taking care of myself and feeling okay about saying no.