Your operation should only be running at 80% capacity. That’ll give you flexibility to respond to emergencies, or take opportunities.
*****
This one was not told to me by a lover, but by a businessperson giving a seminar. As with many things in my life, I find it applies to polyamory in addition to its intended topic. And to monogamy, while we’re at it. At any rate, it floored me, as do an alarmingly large number of simple and obvious ideas.
Aside from, “who gets to take you out for your birthday?” the big question people seem to have about those of us with multiple partners is, “ how do you have time for all that?”
The answer is: I don’t.
Or do I? We always have time for what’s most important. So maybe I choose not to spend my time in ways that normal people do (watching TV, for example). Or maybe I multitask by trying to turn chores into a fun activity with a lover, since there’s always one or the other around (shopping works well for this, as I find that trustworthy lovers are efficient at getting me out of places where there’s nothing that fits my style).
The more general aspect of my life is that I don’t have time. I didn’t when I was monogamous, either. There was always something fun or useful to do with the spouse, or with a friend, or in my career, or in a hobby. Not having time seems to have a lot more to do with an individual’s personality than with how many lovers they have. It sounds to me like the excuse of not being able to afford something--in truth, what’s a priority gets our resources (time and money). The idea that time and money are already budgeted elsewhere expresses that a certain activity/expenditure may not be worth reshuffling a system that works, when in fact, a new priority often can fit into a system by moving things around if that’s the goal. So I felt like I didn’t have time for a new lover when all I had was a spouse. And I felt like I didn’t have time for a new lover when all I had were three lovers.
That changed (thank goodness my girlthing is low-maintenance!).
So this idea of running your operation (in this case, the idea was a business, but I immediately mentally applied it to my schedule) at 80% capacity was a new one to me. I’d always been running at 100% capacity--sometimes a bit more and with a willingness to get imperfect results in a few areas of my life (i.e. I can get by on 5 hours’ sleep and a bunch of coffee for one 24-hour period). I felt like, if I were running on any less capacity, I wasn’t getting all I could out of life. I wouldn’t be making as much money as I could. Or building as many skills. Or having as many/varied experiences.
In truth, though, while living in that model, every little surprise floored me. A 15-minute telephone call would put me 15 minutes behind schedule, so I’d be 15 minutes late to everything else for the rest of the day and go to bed 15 minutes late. That would mean waking up crabby (or not even waking up on time! I’d be crabby for being late to everything else that day) or skipping the a.m. workout (which, endorphin junkie that I am, would make me crabby, too). The President has a schedule that tight, and he’s got a lot of grey hairs these days.
In truth, living with that kind of structure was bad for relationships. It would cause a great deal of stress to run into a friend on the street, because the inevitable, “let’s get together for dinner” would invariably engender the embarrassing answer of, “I’m free in 3 weeks.” Until the answer became, “there’s nothing on my schedule on a Tuesday night 6 weeks from now, but then I’m booked until October.” I spent my sick days on the phone canceling appointments (come to think of it, I’m surprised there weren’t more sick days with this kind of schedule going on...), which was also not exactly relaxing. And the normal, everyday stress of having a little fight with the spouse turned into an exhausting, sleep-depriving ordeal (note: I do know some couples who schedule their fights, to good effect. I’m working on having that kind of patience).
So maybe living at 80% would give me the flexibility to take opportunities for dinner dates, not floor me when I’ve got a surprise fight or phone call, and give me the time to rest and prevent those sick days. I’m not there yet, but the concept sounds nice. And awareness of the problem certainly helps in solving it. In asking for a lover’s help in solving this dilemma, I was told, “no problem. Give me 45 minutes, your calendar, and a phone.” I periodically edit my schedule the way normal people edit their closets.
It’s true, it’s not comfortable editing people out of regular social circulation. I canceled plans with a tangential friend with what I thought was a very good excuse, “I’m moving and need to focus.” What I didn’t realize is that he thought I was moving imminently and needed to focus on packing. I thought (correctly) that I was moving in 6 months and needed to focus on my best friends. That realization caused a lot of hurt when we ran into each other several months later, and I had not even started packing.
Good friends of mine like to suggest weekly appointments with me. The weekly fun times are great, but unless I double-schedule, that leaves me a budget of 7 friends in my life (assuming I don’t need any alone time, which is debatable). If 4 of those slots are taken up with lovers, and especially with lovers I’d happily see way more frequently than once per week, it turns weekly social engagements, which are supposedly a treat, into obligations (note to my lovers with whom I have weekly dates: this does not apply to you. There’s, perhaps sadly, a big emotional difference between lovers and mere good friends). I now know that about myself well enough to explain to those who suggest a Wednesday-night coffee date, but I get funny looks when trying to explain that I sometimes like to go dancing on Wednesday night instead.
Maybe it's easier to just say no at the outset.
*****
Question or comment? I've got plenty of time to research. Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
*****
This one was not told to me by a lover, but by a businessperson giving a seminar. As with many things in my life, I find it applies to polyamory in addition to its intended topic. And to monogamy, while we’re at it. At any rate, it floored me, as do an alarmingly large number of simple and obvious ideas.
Aside from, “who gets to take you out for your birthday?” the big question people seem to have about those of us with multiple partners is, “ how do you have time for all that?”
The answer is: I don’t.
Or do I? We always have time for what’s most important. So maybe I choose not to spend my time in ways that normal people do (watching TV, for example). Or maybe I multitask by trying to turn chores into a fun activity with a lover, since there’s always one or the other around (shopping works well for this, as I find that trustworthy lovers are efficient at getting me out of places where there’s nothing that fits my style).
The more general aspect of my life is that I don’t have time. I didn’t when I was monogamous, either. There was always something fun or useful to do with the spouse, or with a friend, or in my career, or in a hobby. Not having time seems to have a lot more to do with an individual’s personality than with how many lovers they have. It sounds to me like the excuse of not being able to afford something--in truth, what’s a priority gets our resources (time and money). The idea that time and money are already budgeted elsewhere expresses that a certain activity/expenditure may not be worth reshuffling a system that works, when in fact, a new priority often can fit into a system by moving things around if that’s the goal. So I felt like I didn’t have time for a new lover when all I had was a spouse. And I felt like I didn’t have time for a new lover when all I had were three lovers.
That changed (thank goodness my girlthing is low-maintenance!).
So this idea of running your operation (in this case, the idea was a business, but I immediately mentally applied it to my schedule) at 80% capacity was a new one to me. I’d always been running at 100% capacity--sometimes a bit more and with a willingness to get imperfect results in a few areas of my life (i.e. I can get by on 5 hours’ sleep and a bunch of coffee for one 24-hour period). I felt like, if I were running on any less capacity, I wasn’t getting all I could out of life. I wouldn’t be making as much money as I could. Or building as many skills. Or having as many/varied experiences.
In truth, though, while living in that model, every little surprise floored me. A 15-minute telephone call would put me 15 minutes behind schedule, so I’d be 15 minutes late to everything else for the rest of the day and go to bed 15 minutes late. That would mean waking up crabby (or not even waking up on time! I’d be crabby for being late to everything else that day) or skipping the a.m. workout (which, endorphin junkie that I am, would make me crabby, too). The President has a schedule that tight, and he’s got a lot of grey hairs these days.
In truth, living with that kind of structure was bad for relationships. It would cause a great deal of stress to run into a friend on the street, because the inevitable, “let’s get together for dinner” would invariably engender the embarrassing answer of, “I’m free in 3 weeks.” Until the answer became, “there’s nothing on my schedule on a Tuesday night 6 weeks from now, but then I’m booked until October.” I spent my sick days on the phone canceling appointments (come to think of it, I’m surprised there weren’t more sick days with this kind of schedule going on...), which was also not exactly relaxing. And the normal, everyday stress of having a little fight with the spouse turned into an exhausting, sleep-depriving ordeal (note: I do know some couples who schedule their fights, to good effect. I’m working on having that kind of patience).
So maybe living at 80% would give me the flexibility to take opportunities for dinner dates, not floor me when I’ve got a surprise fight or phone call, and give me the time to rest and prevent those sick days. I’m not there yet, but the concept sounds nice. And awareness of the problem certainly helps in solving it. In asking for a lover’s help in solving this dilemma, I was told, “no problem. Give me 45 minutes, your calendar, and a phone.” I periodically edit my schedule the way normal people edit their closets.
It’s true, it’s not comfortable editing people out of regular social circulation. I canceled plans with a tangential friend with what I thought was a very good excuse, “I’m moving and need to focus.” What I didn’t realize is that he thought I was moving imminently and needed to focus on packing. I thought (correctly) that I was moving in 6 months and needed to focus on my best friends. That realization caused a lot of hurt when we ran into each other several months later, and I had not even started packing.
Good friends of mine like to suggest weekly appointments with me. The weekly fun times are great, but unless I double-schedule, that leaves me a budget of 7 friends in my life (assuming I don’t need any alone time, which is debatable). If 4 of those slots are taken up with lovers, and especially with lovers I’d happily see way more frequently than once per week, it turns weekly social engagements, which are supposedly a treat, into obligations (note to my lovers with whom I have weekly dates: this does not apply to you. There’s, perhaps sadly, a big emotional difference between lovers and mere good friends). I now know that about myself well enough to explain to those who suggest a Wednesday-night coffee date, but I get funny looks when trying to explain that I sometimes like to go dancing on Wednesday night instead.
Maybe it's easier to just say no at the outset.
*****
Question or comment? I've got plenty of time to research. Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment