One thing about me is that, as much as I love traveling the world and discovering new places, I love spending the Fourth of July in Maine. For more than thirty years, I’ve looked forward to the same traditions: cookouts with family, beach time, lobster, long walks along the water, celebrating my birthday with my cousin, and long, unhurried days with family and friends.
Some of life’s greatest luxuries aren’t new discoveries. They’re traditions you never tire of.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve been thinking so much about time lately.
Part of the reason is that this week I had the privilege of being a guest on Laura Vanderkam’s podcast. What Laura didn’t know when she invited me was that I had been a longtime admirer of her work. I first read 168 Hours before I started law school, and this spring I read her newest book, Big Time. Revisiting her work more than a decade later, from a very different season of life, reminded me that the best ideas often grow with us.
There are plenty of people who write about productivity. What I’ve always admired about Laura is that her work has never felt like productivity for productivity’s sake. She has built a remarkably full life. She writes books, hosts a podcast, runs marathons, sings in her church choir, is married to a husband with a demanding career, and together they’re raising five children. I also admire that she doesn’t seem to let perfectionism get in the way.
Another lesson I’ve taken from Laura is that most of us have a surprisingly inaccurate sense of how we spend our time. Unless we’re tracking it, we tend to remember the extremes—the hectic days, the wonderful vacations, the unusually busy weeks—rather than what our lives actually look like.
What I’ve come to admire most is that Laura’s work isn’t really about saying no. It’s about building a life where saying yes to the right things naturally means saying no to others.
One of Laura’s ideas has stayed with me for years: People are a good use of time.
That sentence has been on my mind lately for another reason.
Someone I love has been struggling to say no. Not because they don’t know how, but because they care deeply about other people. They don’t want to disappoint anyone. They don’t want someone to think they aren’t grateful, generous, or excited about the invitation. I suspect many of us know that feeling.
One of Laura’s pieces of advice has always resonated with me. If you’re invited to something three months from now, ask yourself whether you’d genuinely want to do it tonight. Or tomorrow night. If the answer is no, there’s a good chance your future self won’t feel much differently.
I’ve come to believe that many of us don’t say yes because we genuinely want to. We say yes because we’re answering on behalf of our future selves. In our minds, she’ll have more time, more energy, and more margin than we do today. She’ll finally be caught up. She’ll feel rested. She’ll be excited about commitments that today’s version of us is already hesitant to make. She’s optimistic, generous, and wonderfully well-intentioned. The trouble is that today’s decisions eventually become tomorrow’s calendar.
Perhaps that’s why Laura encourages us to be honest about what our future selves will actually want. I’ve come to think of it as answering invitations as our present selves, not the imaginary future version who always seems to have more time than we do.
As I’ve been thinking about all of this, I realized there’s an etiquette lesson here, too.
We spend a great deal of time talking about how to say no graciously. We spend far less time talking about how to receive someone else’s no graciously.
When someone declines an invitation, our instinct is often to persuade. “It’ll only take a couple of hours.” “Everyone else is coming.” “You’ll regret missing it.” Most of the time, those comments come from a loving place. We simply want someone whose company we enjoy to join us.
But one of the kindest things we can do is let someone arrive at no on their own.
A gracious invitation leaves room for a gracious decline.
If people are a good use of time, then surely their time deserves our respect, too.
As I finish writing this, some of my family and friends are at a piano bar singing show tunes. Truthfully, I’d love to be there. But by the time this lands in your inbox, I’ll be celebrating the Fourth of July with the people I love, grateful that I chose to spend part of my Friday evening writing to all of you instead.
Time has a way of asking us to choose between many good things.
That’s true when deciding whether to spend a Friday evening writing or singing along to show tunes. It’s true when deciding whether to accept an invitation months from now. It’s true every time we choose one good thing over another.
I’m still learning that time management isn’t really about finding more hours in the day. It’s about becoming more honest with ourselves—honest about what matters, honest about what we’ll actually enjoy, and honest enough to say yes wholeheartedly and no graciously.
People are a good use of time.
And one of the best ways to show people we value them is by respecting how they choose to spend theirs.
Happy Fourth of July!
I recently joined Gary Lipovetsky of the Creator Method to talk about etiquette for digital entrepreneurs and business owners. You can listen wherever you listen to podcasts or watch here.
You can get caught up on my Ask Alison column in Evie Magazine here.
Q: My family wants to have a diaper raffle at my baby shower, but I only plan to use one specific diaper brand. Is it rude to ask for that brand, or should I skip the diaper raffle altogether?
A: You don't need to feel obligated to accept dozens of diapers you already know you won't use. If you're comfortable sharing your preferred brand, it's perfectly appropriate for your hosts to include that information. If not, I'd simply skip the diaper raffle altogether. Shower traditions are meant to make life easier for the parents-to-be, not create another item on the to-do list. I'd much rather see guests contribute something you know you'll use than something you'll spend time exchanging or donating later.
If you have a question for a future Answering for a Friend segment or my Ask Alison column, please email info@elevateetiquette.com.
For more writing like this, my modern etiquette guide, Was it Something I Said?, is on sale wherever books are sold.
With love,
Alison

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