An Oath of Obligation
Photo by Creative Christians on Unsplash.
March 11, 2024
One thing I’m learning during my time of unemployment is to be more patient with myself. I’ve grown to be patient with others over the years, but I find it harder to grant myself the same kindness.
I’ve always been the type of person who has lots of dreams and ideas floating in my head which then translate into “to do” lists. I have notebooks full of story pitches, business ideas, parties to host, or trips to take. Then, I have a never-ending list of names — people I need to text back, schedule coffee with, plan time to catch up with, or email about an opportunity to work together.
As soon as I’ve checked one name off the list, there are two more to add. I recognize this is a good problem to have, but it’s not for reasons one may think, such as popularity or commitment.
The deeper notion that keeps this running list of names in my head is that I owe them my time and my response. This obligation, I believe, comes from the way I see their value as people who deserve to be seen, heard, and known, regardless of how long I’ve known them. Perhaps I recently met them at an event, felt a genuine connection or was inspired by what they do. I hate the idea of that interaction becoming “one time” and missing an opportunity to get to know them more fully and hear their unique perspectives, or simply not fulfilling my promise to “stay in touch.”
Other people on my list are simply good friends, of whom I’m grateful to have in abundance. But there never seem to be enough days on the calendar to keep up with them all at the same rate. I see some maybe once a year, while it seems I see others often because of proximity or similar schedules. I often wonder if I’m giving enough of my time to people I care about, whom I call “friends,” while simultaneously knowing I cannot be all things to all people. In my mind, it’s not a matter of having too many friends, but of never having enough time.
My fault in all of this is that I end up with so many names and things to do, many of them fall behind. If I had a dime for every text or email I start with, “I’m so sorry for the delay. [Insert explanation here that feels like an excuse but I swear is a good reason.]” I am then filled with guilt and insufficiency because I wanted to get that thing done sooner or because I believe that person deserved a quicker response.
I thought getting laid off would clear my calendar, give me time to sit in silence, and focus a majority of my time on one big project (my book). But it’s as if no longer having a 9-to-5 commitment opened my life up to exponentially more opportunities and therefore more “to dos.” I have been both excited and overwhelmed. I am relishing in the idea that I have the ability to do practically anything I want. But that also means it’s difficult to discern what is for me and what is not. What’s worth my time and what is not. Who I can give my time to and who I cannot.
Today I’ve been reflecting on how the “never-enoughness” I often feel isn’t fair to myself. I expect a lot of myself in the first place, so my standards could probably be a little lower without hurting anyone. But I also know it’s not how God wants me to operate. He never guilts or shames us for our delays. He loves us without condition, even if we take days or months to respond to Him.
He is patient with us, so I should be patient with myself.
While I stood in the shower this morning contemplating this, warm water soaking my hair, I told myself these things: “I do not owe anyone my time. I do not owe anyone my response.” I took a deep breath and asked God to remove the obligations that turn into anxiety in my chest. Even as I write this, tears fight to escape my eyes, perhaps because I’m still holding onto Obligation as though it’s a noble oath I made to myself. But today I am releasing myself from that oath.
