A Shining Star of Sanity

I’ve heard it a million times: ask the busiest person you know to do something and they’ll get it done. I’ve even watched this in real life at my kid’s school. You could reasonably ask the busiest mother to run a bake sale, she’d say yes, and the next week up would go the bake sale!

So when a local artist called today and asked me to mentor a local group of five artists, I could have been that mother with the bake sale. I love…hands on work, and I never get enough. Like you in your studio, I’m up here in my Internet Ivory Tower.

If truth be told (and who has time, right?), you might say I’m starving for some honest-to-goodness eye contact, the pressing of warm hands, the light of a quick smile.

I listened to the whole request, the kind that comes with personal history entwined. I was open to hearing what she had to say, but in my heart I already knew I was going to say “No.”

And then… we had a conversation. A real one. The kind that travels deep.

I was saying “no” because, at the moment, I have three books I’m writing, an online mentoring group I’m starting up, a six-week class I’m co-leading, smARTist Telesummit 2010 to plan, and a brand new business outside all of this to start. Sort of like a dozen bake sales running all at once.

I was saying “no” because I have gotten very clear on my priorities for this year, so “no” was reasonable, logical, the kindest response, and a shining star of sanity.

But what about my disappointed artist?

And here’s the real beauty. Before the conversation, I was solely focused on what was best for me. Complete selfishness on the half-shell. Notice I did not say “self-centered,” which is a different beast altogether.

Selfishness on the half-shell begins with the assumption that since we are all connected in a relationship ecosystem, what is good for me is also good for anyone else in relationship with me – even if it’s for the brief span of one phone call.

By the end of our I’m-sorry-but-I-already-have-as-many-commitments-as-I-can-reasonably-handle conversation, this artist uncovered these gems:

• After she disclaimed her abilities as a leader, claiming that idea generation capacity was where she shined, I pointed out that calling me and gathering together a group of artists were leadership qualities. It took about 20 seconds for her to step into the leadership shoes she was already trying on for size.

• After that, I suggested that she immediately start a diary, tracking every single step and story of this group process, because what she had – in the making – was a potential source of information that other artists would love to have. A real “how ya done it!”

Not too shabby an ending from a starting position of: I can do this, but not this. She even owned up, by the end of the call, to the fact that she was glad I had said No.

Like I said… saying No is simply a shining star of sanity all the way around.

What can  you say No to this week, and come away feeling as if everybody won?