The work will still be there

A few weeks ago, we dropped our daughter, Sarah, off at Brown for her sophomore year.

Our son is beginning his junior year of high school, and suddenly our house is settling into a different rhythm again.

It is quieter.

I miss having everyone under one roof, but I am also looking forward to this next season: watching a lot of volleyball, settling back into familiar routines, and continuing to learn and grow alongside the incredible people in the ADA Decision Lab.

I love the Lab.

I love the conversations we are having, the real situations people are bringing forward, and the ways participants are helping one another think through work that can feel heavy and uncertain.

But in the middle of all this good and meaningful work, I have also been thinking about something else:

The work will take every bit of space we give it.

If you do this work, you know how easily that happens.

There is always another employee waiting for an answer. Another manager who is concerned. Another leave issue, medical document, meeting, deadline, or decision that needs our attention.

And because the work matters—and because we care about doing it well—it can be very easy to tell ourselves:

I will take some time off once things settle down.

I will plan that trip when this project is finished.

I will slow down when the difficult cases are resolved.

But the work rarely turns to us and says, “Everything is handled now. You can go rest.”

We have to make that decision ourselves.

I know that “take care of yourself” can sometimes feel like one more item added to an already impossible list. That is not what I mean.

I mean something much more practical.

Put the vacation on the calendar.

Protect the long weekend.

Go to the volleyball game.

Make the dinner reservation.

Take the morning off.

Go to the pilates class. 

Schedule something that reminds you that your life is not what happens after all the work is finished.

Because the work will still be there.

And when we give ourselves space to step away from it—even briefly—we often return better able to do the things this work requires of us: slow down, ask better questions, remain curious, and help our organizations make sound decisions when the answers are not obvious.

So, before fall becomes completely full, take a look at your calendar.

Is there something important to you that you keep assuming you will find time for later?

Put it on the calendar now.

For me, that means making room for family, volleyball, a quieter house, and this new season of work that I feel incredibly fortunate to be building.

I hope you will make room for something that matters to you, too.

P.S. I am putting the finishing touches on a new project that will give us another place to think through the difficult moments in this work together. I will share more as soon as it is ready.