Or, What I learned from scheduling a meeting on a Saturday and then subsequently missing one on Sunday
A few months ago I was chatting with a client about my email response times and working hours, which I specify in my welcome kit/agreement/contract-if-you-like are between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m. Monday through Friday. Now, before you get the impression I’m only working twenty-hours a week, those are just the hours that I don’t have children in my house. I am often in the position of catching up on writing or working after my kids are in bed, when they’re at their dad’s house, or otherwise preoccupied (I’m a big fan of the laptop on the back porch method of getting-crap-done). And that means sometimes, yes, I do reply to emails on weekends.
My client, who had recently moved from Spain, Siesta culture, was aghast. You should NOT be working weekends. Not even emails, she reprimanded.
Gosh, if only all our clients had such unreasonable demands, right?
Last week was an unusually busy week for me, and I had a client who needed some follow-up support, and Saturday was just the best time for us to have an intense jam session on the phone. My kids were going to be at their father’s, and I wanted to catch up, so I set the meeting. We hopped on our meeting in the morning after breakfast. But by the time we finished, after lunch, I was drained (it was all very good work, don’t get me wrong, but still intense strategy stuff. On a Saturday).
After that, I just felt done in. My kids came home and I turned off my laptop and ignored email for the rest of the weekend. On Sunday morning, I suggested an impromptu trip to the beach to my kiddos, and on that impulse, we piled in the car and headed to Lake Ontario.
Feet in the sand. Check. Spirit restored. Check.
Sunburn and awkward tan lines? Check.
Except I didn’t bother to check my calendar before we left, and we were so far north that I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t get charged for hitting a Canadian data tower. And I completely forgot that I had a business coaching session1 scheduled for Sunday2 afternoon. That I had paid for, mind you.
So by the time I re-entered the grid and saw her concerned, “Are you okay??” emails, I felt like a total dolt! Completely. Mortified.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from being the Sassy Sibyl and struggling to make that business take off in a way that is sustainable, both financially and energetically, is that I am not my business. If I were the embodiment of my business, it would make sense for me to have meetings on weekends. It would make sense that the lines would blur between business/working/and life. But my purpose for being alive is not a function of the business I am in. If I believed that, none of it would be worthwhile.
This is an issue of boundaries for me. And I know other creative and heart-centered business owners struggle with it. In America, it’s drilled in our brains to work hard and get lucky. Well, how about work hard and have a heart attack at 55? Or maybe, work hard and miss out on your kids growing up?
None of those options sound appealing. And I don’t want to be out of integrity by forgetting meetings because my mind, body and spirit need to rest. So I’m declaring my weekends sacred and drawing that line in the sand.
With my toes. On a sunny beach.
How do you handle work and life boundaries?