Actors have agents.
CEOâ€™s have assistants and VPâ€™s.
Celebrities have PR people.
But most of us donâ€™t have these human filters that tell us whatâ€™s important, who needs a meeting, who doesnâ€™t, what favors should we do or not do. So we have to prioritize them ourselves. Fair enough.
We know we have to say â€œnoâ€ when we want to make something big â€“ to write a book, complete a project â€“ we accept fewer invitations in order to focus on milestones. That obviously makes sense. But what Iâ€™m more interested in are the transitional moments that might seem unremarkable â€“ but that are meaningful all the same â€“ that you canâ€™t plan.
I always notice that when my work schedule is back to back, I canâ€™t even imagine new business ideas much less recognize them if they knock on my door. And I also miss tiny, unexpected moments; my kidsâ€™ sharing a story before bedtime or a concern expressed in the car on the way to ballet. When every minute is accounted for, thereâ€™s no room for unexpected loveliness.
Itâ€™s the same rationale that a swanky restaurant employs by (secretly) keeping a VIP table open. They want the ability to say â€œof course we have a table for you, Mr. Clooney,â€ (should he walk in). But thatâ€™s intentional. Planned. Anticipated. Some â€œnoâ€ had to happen for that table to be available.
Thereâ€™s a difference between what you know you want, and the things you canâ€™t predict youâ€™d hate to miss. Could be a dream opportunity, or a bath instead of a shower.
Create space. Make some room.