630: Feeling Trapped By Your Business? How To Be Reintroduced Into Life

She sent us a voice memo saying, “I don’t see my husband or my kids anymore… money is not the issue, I just don’t have the time…I feel trapped by my business.” This Mom is trying to wear the superhero cape in life and at work and feels she is doing neither very well brewing a mental cocktail of disillusionment about the value and gift of business, while also fueling 100-proof guilt straight from the still of societal expectations. Life and business necessarily intersect and can be of mutual value to each other.   Humans were created as a gift to one another, so to work was created as a means of mimicking small little moments of creation each and every day.  This treatise that I am penning now is a small act of creating something new… a small contribution of work.   This morning I was able to sit with my daughter for a short breakfast a mere five days before she is to marry her fiance.  I cannot hide my family emotion from my work creation, or vice versa.  The space for breakfast was set and crafted long before this morning. Without a predetermined understanding of what our business was intended in the first place, I could have easily slotted some urgent-felt task into that slot that was unmoveable.  Years ago I made the determination that I would not do my core work of coaching on Mondays or Fridays.  Why? I needed space… margin.   Foregoing Monday and Friday coaching options was also a confession that we would also be limiting our possible income due to the restriction of available revenue-generating hours in any given week.   This does not mean I do no work on Monday and Fridays.  On the contrary, some of my deepest creation work is done on Monday and Friday as I create a series of one-on-one appointments with myself to create and implement that work that will ultimately benefit hundreds and thousands beyond me for years to come…including this humble article I write now.   Those are hours that I have cashed in for the margin of availability.  Availability for my daughter to have a final breakfast before she assumes a last name and role that I no longer have a primary say in.  Availability to hop on a call with a frustrated client, to chat with a wisdom-seeking team member,  to stare out the window and contemplate next steps. The burden of being trapped is usually at the fault of providing ourselves no boundaries, and therefore no margin. Watching a basketball game on television, you will quickly see that the boundary of the court offers the margin for spectators, journalists, team trainers, coaches, and a variety of other support that allows freedom for the players to do what they are best at. Could the leagues cram more games into a season and theoretically earn more money?  Yes, to what damage? Exhaustion.  Fatigue.  Bitterness.  Frustration.  Isolation. All are planted in the soil of a boundaryless life; a day to day without proper forethought, scheduling, and perspective. Five days out from walking my daughter into a new life, sending her off into a new narrative with a new teammate it is hard to run from the cliches of time chasing you down reminding you that your parents and grandparents were right when they pinched your cheek, pitifully cocked their head and softly spilled the truth that time really does move fast.   Success is not a metric, but instead health, presence, eyes to see and ears to hear.   In the popular book In Praise of Slowness Carl Honore writes, “studies show that people who feel in control of their time are more relaxed, creative and productive.” Apps have turned much of life into a competitive league of perpetual window shopping through the grams, reels, and snaps of our incessant posting.  In her well-written book Saving Time Jenny Odell laments that “you can shop for life itself in a virtual mall where posts about self-care and retreat come across as ads for self-care and retreat.  Tap to add this to your life.” No corner of our attention is spared from the incandescent glow of the best of everyone else in contrast to the dark world of my own limitations.   We work harder like desperate gamblers trading in another bank of minutes from our limited supply out to the open market in hopes we will strike it big in the form of achievement knowing that it too will soon be gone. Ironically, I was at a funeral yesterday, six days prior to my daughter's wedding.  A powerful paradox.  A juxtaposed emotion from what soon will come.  In two hours of funeraling, there was not one mention of the 89-year-olds net worth nor one accolade of the overtime that he put in. The one theme throughout the two-hour reflection was…presence.  “He was there.” “He was silly.” “He was faithful.” It used to be thought that she who dies with the most toys wins.   Instead, she who boundaries her time to be available both on the court and in the margins… wins.  She who makes time for breakfast with her daughter and the planned team meeting. She who makes time for exercise and budget reports. She who makes time for kids activities and sales appointments. The bad news is you are only allowed 168 hours in a week.   The good news is you have access to a full bank of 168 hours in a week.   For the most part, you decide how those hours are used and who those hours are used for.  It will cost you either way, and you alone will determine the value of that cost either for the short term, or the long.   You can window shop the infinite screens of the other, or you can content yourself with the value of who you have been built and designed to be; which is finite and unique.   Balance is a myth, rhythm is a reality.  Boundaries allow for rhythm, both on the court and in the margin.