Do You Know the High Cost of Being a Compulsive Canceler?

Posted on Jan 12, 2017 Topic : Inspirational/Devotional, Women's Christian Living
Posted by : Cheri Gregory

I used to be a compulsive canceler. As an over-attempter, I constantly crammed my schedule full, only to back out of half (or more) of my commitments when it became obvious there was no way I could keep them all.

I’m not alone in this habit. Last-minute rain checks and no-shows are a social epidemic. Canceling offers such an instantaneous relief: We feel all warm and happy because suddenly, miraculously, we don’t have to do that high-stress task after all. Canceling actually triggers the release of dopamine in our brains, producing a powerful short-term high that’s both alluring and addictive.

My artist friend Sarah gave me a much-needed reality check about my canceling habit. I’d received some upsetting news, and my knee-jerk reaction was to text her to “rain check” our movie date the next evening. When she responded, “I will be praying for you. Thank you for the heads-up. I will still leave the time open for you,” I was stunned.

I’d always assumed that my canceling was even more of a relief to others than it was to me. Surely they had far better things to do with their time than spend it with me. But here a friend was telling me she valued spending time with me so much she was still hoping it would happen. I had to ask myself, What makes me think I know what other people are thinking and feeling? What if they’re looking forward to spending time with me? What if my canceling disappoints them?

The immediate relief of canceling comes at the long-term cost of our relationships. I used to say yes to important commitments while thinking, I can always cancel if something comes up, oblivious to how disrespectful this was to others and how damaging it was to my own integrity. So now, with each commitment I’m offered, I pause to pre-decide: According to my calendar, is this possible? Can I honor it all the way through? Or do I need to say no now?

While reading the book Essentialism, I discovered the word priority was originally singular. “Only in the 1900s did we pluralize the term and start talking about priorities. Illogically, we reasoned that by changing the word we could bend reality. Somehow we would now be able to have multiple ‘first’ things.”*

My multiple to-do lists made me believe I could have dozens of priorities, that everything I wrote down was important, and thus possible. Living off my calendar reminds me that even when everything seems important, not everything is possible.

Father God, You have given me 24 hours each day.
Help me to know when to say yes and when to say no.
Show me what Your priority is for me. Help me to recognize
there is a limit to what I can fit onto my schedule.

*Greg McKeown, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less (New York: Crown Business, 2014), 16.