The art of opting out

Subtleties of the better story

I’m a lucky man. I’m writing to you on vacation from a town called Malcesine, Italy. It ranks among the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in my life. The balcony of the Airbnb where I’m currently sitting looks out on the shores of oceanic Lake Garda. And directly to my east stand majestic snow-capped mountains.

This has been quite a trip so far, another beautifully crafted piece of art by my wife Julie. We started in Dublin, where my son George met his fiancé Lauren. They hired a photographer to meet them in the spaces where they first met, and if the proofs are any proof, the resulting pics will prove to be magnificent.

And then we headed here. We have already spent a day or two exploring this town, as well as the town of Limone across the lake.

Over the past couple of days, Julie, George and Lauren have been talking about paragliding off the top of the mountains over the lake, certain to experience once in a lifetime vistas. To my surprise, as they talked about it more and more, I found my anxiety starting to rise. Extreme heights lie right outside of my comfort zone, especially when they crest 5,000 feet or so.

Now, I’m no stranger to the paragliding experience. A few years back, I leapt from a similar mountain in Switzerland. I remember rushing from gondola to gondola up the mountain, and running rapidly toward the jump site. If memory serves me correctly, we were running a bit late. Fortunately, I was the first to jump, leaving no time for nerves to intervene. After strapping in and a few brief instructions, we took a few strides before our chute pulled us up into the air. Within seconds, we were about 30 feet over a meadow. And then quite suddenly, we were thousands of feet above the ground.

It was a shocking, gorgeous, dizzying sight. For nearly half an hour, it was just my guide and I navigating the thermals and the currents to stay in the air and take in the breathtaking views. I experienced moments of unforgettable joy. I felt the wild trepidation of seeing nothing between my feet and the canyon impossibly far below.

On the whole, I loved it. A bucket list experience.

Which brings me back to this current trip. Again, as my family seemed more intent on another jump, I felt a tightening in my chest. I looked back at photos of my Switzerland jump, and I can see the delight in my face. But I wasn’t feeling that delight today.

This is tricky for me, as I’m a big proponent of doing the thing. I like doing the thing and writing the better story, which usually means doing the thing! Certainly, by the rules I preach and typically live by, a yes to the thing is almost certainly the better answer.

Eat the meal. Sing the song. Dance the dance. Write the book.

Jump off that mountain.

But over the last 24 hours, I just haven’t been feeling it. My anxiety has been uncomfortably high. And I just have not been interested in the anticipatory anxiety, and the notion of the disorienting feeling of being all the way up in the air for so long, the landing site impossibly far below.

Still, my mind was made up. I decided long ago that if my family was going to do a thing, I was going to do said thing as well. I absolutely wasn’t going to be the one to check out.

Then this morning, after a very fitful night’s sleep, I find myself saying aloud, “I think I’m gonna sit this one out. I’m not gonna jump off the mountain today.”

Honestly, I’m not sure where that proclamation came from. It kind of exploded out of me, some core instinct that I don’t belong all the way up there, vulnerable like that. I had no idea how it was going to be received, by my family or by myself.

I felt super relieved, for sure. But to my surprise, as a little time passed, I felt proud of myself as well. By violating virtually all my life tenets, opting out feels like the right thing.

I think the reason is that I am honoring myself through this choice. Frankly I’ve spent far too much of my life saying yes to new experiences and broadening my horizons. And Yes has by and large worked really well for me. Yes, has made a lot of my dreams come true, including some I didn’t know I had. Yes brought me to my profession, to publishing books, to TV and radio. Yes has brought abundance to my relationships, and unforgettable experiences to my life.

Yes has definitely been my buddy.

But your buddy can let you down once in a while too. By saying yes too often, to everything, I have WAY overcommitted my time, fragmenting my experiences, taking me out of my moments.

Yes can go too far. And I have definitely taken Yes way too far, way too much of the time. As a result, I’ve been anxious, hurried, overwhelmed and overcommitted.

In the self-help world these days, the messaging is confusing. Are we to say yes to broaden our experiences, or no to strengthen our sense of personal boundaries? Which is the better story?

I’m going to try to clarify that, at least for myself, and hopefully some of you, here.

I find myself reclaiming the definition of the better story today. For me, without question, the better story on this day was to say no to the adventure, to the activity, to the thing. I feel very much at peace here in this space, writing this piece and taking in this stunner of a view with a strong cup of coffee. It’s nice to have a little time alone here.

Today, I simply don’t wanna do the thing. I just don’t wanna do it. And it feels good saying yes to me.

Honestly, I’m finding there’s something brave about saying no to the thing and yes to your thing. Especially if this is something you are not in the habit of doing regularly. I think I feel more bad ass today, saying no to jumping off a mountain, sitting here in peaceful revelry, than I would anxiously strapping in for another glide.

Oddly, it’s a pretty good story.

And I realize that the story can change. Because next time, I very likely am going to want to do the thing. I will want to run the marathon, deliver the TED talk, maybe even jump off the next mountain, who knows?

But as a bonus, by freeing myself today from the Yes, I think I free my family from my internal emotional struggle as well.

And I want them to have an unmitigated fantastic experience. I could sense that my anxiety around this was going to cripple their experience in some way or another, either directly or indirectly. Maybe it already was. I didn’t want them to pay the price for my nervousness. That doesn’t sound like a very good story.

They are currently on the gondola near the jump site. And I sit here, 5,000 feet below them, awaiting their return. I am hoping they have a blissful, energizing, joyful, and unforgettable time. I will celebrate their experience. And I’m grateful for the time I have here. It’s a surprising win-win that took me a while to arrive at.

And it occurs to me that maybe I’ve had this wrong for all these years. Maybe no it’s just a yes dressed in slightly different clothing.

At lunch today, we were discussing the morality and ethics of selfishness versus selflessness. And maybe in some circumstances, they can exist in the same space together. This selfish act seems to have some selfless consequences.

So for today, if you need permission, here’s to the NO, the anti-yes. If it fuels you, or at the very least doesn’t drain you, enjoy the peace of mind of not doing the thing.

Yes or no, do your thing. Either way, if it feels right, you’ve made a badass decision.