Everybody Wants a Piece of You

Everybody wants a piece of you.

Today I went to the bank. I changed some things around to hopefully keep a more watchful eye on finances, simplify things somewhat, and keep myself from having to double check the various balances in the accounts in the dying hours of each month.

I’m not great with finances. That’s more than a bit of an understatement. Like quite a few people I know, making more money has not solved my financial frustrations. A few years ago we began to make some smarter decisions. Installed Mint. It’s a good start, but it’s still an uphill battle for me.

A few months ago I remember sitting down to pay some ignored bills and being notified of yet another bill, while paying the others. “Yeah, get in line”, I spoke into the ether.

Everybody, it seemed, wanted a piece.

The feeling of everyone wanting a piece of you may be familiar. It certainly is for me. And it’s by no means restricted to finances. What is true in one area, is often mirrored elsewhere. It’s when you’re rushing to work and one of your kids says they feel sick and you can’t find your keys. It’s when you have loads of laundry to do because it’s flu season and suddenly the dryer stops working (admittedly, marginally better than the washing machine not working…). It’s when your money, your resources, your time, your attention, your affection, your ‘whole-ness’ is gone. And you don’t know where it went.

Everyone wants a piece of you.

A friend of mine wants a piece. Not of me, particularly, but of anyone, everyone. My friend has just started up a new business doing something he loves and has dreamed about for years. My friend imports coffee beans from all over the world, and roasts them in small batches in his garage. He showed me his setup once. He has a large shelf that houses his equipment, which he lowers on a pulley system he devised (cause there’s not really room for a full coffee roasting set up in their garage 24/7). He regularly sets up shop at a local artisan market once a week to chat with customers and share his passion for each cup. Did I mention he also works full time shift work, and that he is a father to a young child? Because he is. And he needs a piece.

His wife also recently started out in a new career. Which means both of them are in the unenviable position of trying to promote themselves, their product and services, constantly. And so each of them are in the position of needing support from those around them, and feeling like everyone needs a piece of them too.

Their story is actually not that unique. Is it any different from anyone with the courage to ask for support? Consider the coworker who needs to ask for help moving, or the friend hosting a tupperware party to make some extra money, or even from myself, asking for your time and attention to read these words? We all need a piece of those around us, and feel like everyone needs a piece of us.

When everyone needs a piece of us, how do we possibly stay whole? And beyond that, how can we possibly have enough to give to those around us?

Because the truth is, when you acknowledge that everyone wants a piece of you, you need to start making decisions about who gets what. There are more people, products, and companies out there that want a piece of you than you have pieces to give.  You need to choose. This sounds exceedingly simple, but I don’t think we do it very well. I think we may hope of giving our attention, our energy and our resources to those and that which matter most to us, but do we? When I turn on the computer, I may have the intention of paying a bill, writing a journal entry, or working on school work (all priorities for me that I desire to spend my energy and time on), but then I thoughtlessly open Facebook, or get lost in trying to say something clever on Twitter.

I think we often spend our resources unaware, until we are left feeling utterly depleted, and confused at where all the time/money/energy has gone.

We need to make smarter choices about what we give ourselves to. Because we cannot give ourselves to everything and everyone. You can’t do it all.

Did you hear that last part? I’ll say it again (to both you and myself): You. Can’t. Do. It. All.

If you are feeling ragged, you have my compassion. I know what that feels like. If you are exhausted, pulled in ten different directions at once, I know how tiring that is. If you are in an extremely busy season of your life, with little kids, with long hours, with anxiety over the countless demands that everyone places upon you, I want you to know that as much as one being can understand another, I understand this.

But I also want you to know that no one will make it better for you.

If that seems a bit harsh, it is because it is intended to be. Even very wise, very safe, very giving people in your life will only be able to lend you their hard earned wisdom. But it will not help you from feeling run ragged, depleted, whispering to the ether “get in line”.

It is easy to get angry at the bill that comes in when you can least afford it. The job that constantly asks for more. The next invite from a friend selling something. The next email asking you to give. The small child who grabs you by the face and directs your attention where they want it. But this is life! There is no end of the requests on you! Yours is the job of resource management. It is only natural that the child would desire your undivided attention. Only natural an aid organization will send out requests for funds. Only natural that a good friend will want to tell you all about the dream they are pursuing. You have so much to give, but you also only have so much, and so you must choose.

And one of the first things you must choose, is to care for yourself. As often as you need, as often as you can make happen, you are allowed to care for yourself first. To have boundaries. To set aside something for yourself.

Because what happens when you’re run ragged and someone asks you for one more thing? Maybe you do it, resentfully. Maybe you shut down. Maybe you yell at the kids. Maybe you put off the bills for one more day. This is the counterintuitive thing about self care. Without it, what you can give to others is severely limited, or tainted. What you do and who you are will be less than what it can be, less than who you can be.

There is this common belief hanging in the air about self care. That it is selfish. That we need to put others first. But that belief doesn’t acknowledge that we can only give out of what we have. When you’re empty, depleted, resentful, you hold what little you have left with clenched fists. When you feel that you have nothing left in you, you have nothing left for anyone else, either.

Your life is not a sprint, it is an endurance race. Some people sprint down the track, not thinking of how to care for themselves over the long haul. Their bodies will exact their toll. In a week, a month, a year, you will see them on the sidelines, unable or unwilling to run the race set before them.

You are allowed to take time for yourself. To read a book. To listen to a podcast. To have a whole mug of coffee or tea, uninterrupted. To go for a walk. To go out with the guys, with the girls, with a good friend, or new acquaintance.

You are also allowed to do the (less fun) things that make your life easier. Set up a menu plan, use the slow cooker, set up online banking and automatic deposits, go to the gym (some people would put this in the fun list, but I’ve never understood those people).

You are allowed, permitted, encouraged, cheered on, instructed, commanded… to do whatever fills you up. And then give yourself freely, and intentionally, to those and that which matters most.

Because everyone wants a piece of you. And you have so much to give.