The Return of an Old Habit
As a woman of a certain age, I have an elderly parent and adult children. Over the last month, I found myself in an internal battle about where my responsibility ends and theirs begins. I’m exhausted after going several rounds – well, with myself. No one has specifically asked me for anything. Yet that old belief, I have to help, has crept back into my daily habits. I’ve slipped into the role of the person who really should do this or that – volunteering myself.
It’s a tricky belief system that I had gladly released for a few years… AND IT’S BAAACCCKKKK! In fact, it’s been quietly building for some time. Lately, I’ve caught myself muttering about the extra tasks I’ve inherited. But here’s the thing: we teach others how to treat us. If I keep giving, of my own free will, people will gladly accept the help, favours, and support. Over time, they even begin to expect it.
As I continue to do for others, I’m reminded of Stephen Covey’s analogy of filling the “bank account” of a relationship. Going above and beyond builds a positive balance. It’s like making goodwill deposits instead of money. But is it really a balanced relationship if I never make a withdrawal.
The Retirement Dream… With a Twist
Letting go was easy when I had time and space. For a few years, I had quit my job, separated from my husband, and had minimal contact with my adult children as they navigated their twenties. I was flying solo. Well, aside from my easy-going, mature dog, who needed regular exercise (and that was a joy).
The rest of the time? Pure freedom. I ate when I wanted, studied when I wanted, did dishes and laundry when the mood struck, and accepted or declined invitations based on how I felt in the moment. I even worked when I wanted. Not gonna lie, it was sweet!
That period was the retirement dream: doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. But after a while, I realized something was missing. I needed purpose and intentionality in my life. I love to create, and going back to school was amazing as it led me to where I am now.
More Roles, More Responsibility?
Life got busier. I took on an amazing part-time job, launched my coaching business, and, surprise!, I started dating my husband again. We eventually reconciled. My relationships with my adult daughters evolved. My mother entered the no-go phase of retirement. The earth beneath me shifted ever so slightly. Suddenly, it was no longer obvious how everything fit together.
And yet, in the middle of it all, I could still lose myself in work. Days would fly by in my office—reading, taking calls, writing blog posts—until I’d look up, realizing it was too late to call my mom or that I had yet to start dinner on a night I’d volunteered to cook. Was I really juggling too much? Or was I just telling myself that story?
A Daily Reminder of Love
A few months ago, after a particularly enlightening coaching conversation, I set an alarm on my phone as a promise to myself—to call my mom. At the time, I felt guilty about how little I had been keeping in touch.
When she lived at home, I could call anytime and always get an answer. Now, I call the amazing support staff, who bring the portable phone to her. But they have busy jobs and aren’t always available to pick up. Through trial and error, I discovered that 2:55 PM EST is the golden time. That small shift has allowed me to speak with her much more frequently. I do it gladly and it keeps us connected.
The Urge to Step In
Maybe my overwhelming urge to help, wherever and whenever I can, is really about staying relevant in my children’s lives. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve rearranged my schedule and dropped everything to help. But in doing so, I’ve been violating one of the “rules” I learned during coach training: Never do something for someone that they can do themselves.
When I jump in, I rob them of the opportunity to solve their own problems and meet their own challenges. It’s tantamount to telling them that I don’t believe they’re capable. Which is absolute garbage because they are two of the cleverest people I know.
The Weight of Doing It All
For weeks, I was in constant motion and wrapping up lingering tasks while loved ones suddenly needed extra attention. That meant five trips to a hospital 50 km away, a blood test for me, starting physiotherapy for my healing wrist, studying for and writing my ICF exam and my daily attempts to connect with my mom.
All this on top of keeping up with meals and maintaining a living space that was at least clean & tidy enough not to disgust me. And because of all the extra errands, my morning dog walks, the ones I usually love, felt more like an impatient obligation than the peaceful, casual strolls I cherish.
The Hustle I Never Wanted
I don’t want to be busy all the time or constantly hustling to fit everything in. That’s the exact opposite of what I want.
When I broke my wrist in December, the reality of my increasingly packed schedule hit me in the face. Temporarily sidelined from my usual tasks, I promised myself I’d slow down and move through my days with more intention. But somewhere along the way, that promise went out the window.
Now, I have another opportunity to reassess. It’s a chance to decide what stays and what goes.
The Power of Choice
None of us live in a vacuum. As I reflected on the whirlwind of activity, it actually strengthened my resolve to help the people I love where and when I can.
I took a moment to pause and check in with my priorities. My real problem wasn’t helping. It was trying to keep up with the big things and all the little things, too. It’s such a relief to say out loud: If I add something to my day, I can move or cancel something else. I had forgotten that.
The endless list of things I could do will never go away. My job isn’t to conquer that list. Rather, it’s to take control of me in any given situation. To make a decision: Do I do this, or not?
That simple shift reminds me that while I have no control over what happens around me, I can control my response. And that is a very powerful idea.
An invitation
At the end of the day, it’s not about doing everything—it’s about choosing what truly matters. So, what will you decide to keep, and what will you let go?