Recently, I was listening to a podcast. The guest was one of my all-time favourite comedians, Carol Burnett. Well into her 90s now, she’s still sounding like she’s never aged past 40. Strong. Believable. And of course, humorous as always.
One major highlight in that podcast interview was her response to the host, another famous comedian, Julia Louis-Dreyfuss, when asked the typical question one asks someone of that age: “What would you tell your younger self?” Or maybe it was “What life lessons have you gained after so many decades?”
No matter.
All these questions belong to the same cluster of questions that I call ‘What If You Could Turn Back the Clock?’
I Wish That I Could Turn Back The Clock
For time immemorial, the idea of time travel has fascinated us.
Imagine.
To return to a point in time in the recent or distant past to either relive a happy moment, redo a task differently, right a wrong, or return to be with a loved one now gone. Just the possibility of doing so would spark anyone’s imagination!
And what if it’s to return to your younger self to offer some hard-won and sage advice, learned from the trenches of life you’ve experienced? What would you say? Or what would you do differently?
Carol’s reply to Julia blew me away! And empowered me in new ways I had never thought of before.
Especially so in the light of two recent invitations that ticked me off!
“No” really can be a complete sentence! So can silence.
One was an invite that came from not one, not two, but four different university coursemates from two decades ago. It was an invitation to attend a 20th anniversary alumni gathering that took place last evening.
The other was also an invite. To attend a nephew’s wedding in December.
On the surface, neither appears to be anything most people would turn down (especially the latter) except for one common trait across both invites.
They were made by people who have hardly kept in touch with me for over a decade and more!
So to these I responded with…silence.
Which is really just my way of saying: No.
And thanks to Carol’s sage advice, 1.04 hrs into the episode, I can now confidently practise the simple act of saying no or remaining quiet. And let that be my complete response. (Interestingly enough, Julia shared that her very first podcast guest, famous Hollywood superstar Jane Fonda, also said on the show that no is a complete sentence)
Don’t Change Anything In Your Past
Another sage advice offered by Carol on the podcast was that even if one could go back in time to change things, she wouldn’t.
Because everything that has happened in her life has shaped her into who she is today. And she’s learned to accept and even celebrate who she is. Not in an arrogant way, but in a grateful way.
I love that.
For one thing, it’s freeing. I don’t have to feel trapped or forced to act or be different. Or be someone I’m not.
For another, it’s also accepting. Knowing that every experience, decision, or moment (both joyful and bitter) that I’ve ever encountered since birth has shaped who I am now. I am the sum of all the good, but also all the bad. And no one has experienced these things in my life exactly the way I did. And by extension, internalised them the way I did. Which ultimately made me the way I am. The way I speak. The way I think. Work. Behave. Live.
So there’s no apology whatsoever (unless, of course, I end up a law-breaker, or a cruel child, sibling, friend, husband, or father)
For all this means that there is no one exactly like me. And I am not exactly like anyone else.
I don’t have to work hard to please anyone else. Not like when I was younger. More gullible. More accommodating and thus, more often easily bullied or coerced into situations or decisions I would have preferred to avoid.
Saying “No” Is Self-Care
This season has been quite a challenging one for me.
Mainly because I’ve been ‘afloat’ for about four months now without my own roof over my head. All thanks to delays in the renovation and fitting-up of my new home. Meanwhile, I’ve had to put up at my in-laws’ during this period. While I’m not ungrateful for the temporary abode, I’m also not at ease. After all, having had a place to call my own for 25 years before the decision to sell it and move, I think it’s not unreasonable for me to feel unsettled now that this move seems to still be in limbo.
While I don’t wish to dwell on the details of these past four months, I’ve had to fight hard within myself to stay centred and focused on what’s ahead. Rather than wallow in self-pity like some homeless vagrant (which clearly I’m not).
Suffice it to say, there are days that it hasn’t been easy.
But now, maybe it will be easier. Now, maybe I can let some assertiveness begin to rise up.
Starting with saying “no” when I’m too weary to defend myself. And letting that “no” be enough.
And learning that it’s okay to be me, who is the sum of all things good and bad, through the years.
Letting that, too, be enough, no matter the consequences.
