I was sitting in my office, staring at my calendar, and I couldn't breathe.
Every day was color-coded. Every hour accounted for. Flights booked months out. Coffee meetings stacked back-to-back. Networking events that "might lead to something." Client calls bleeding into dinner time.
This was 2022: the year my speaking business took off. I'd tripled my revenue. The gigs were rolling in. This was everything I'd been grinding toward for years.
And I was drowning.
I'd missed birthdays of friends I don't see as often anymore - friends who are now young parents, in that stage where time is already scarce. I was never home. My wife and I were struggling because I was always gone, always "on," always saying yes to the next thing because I was terrified it would all disappear if I didn't.
The networking events? The last four had been a waste of time, but "this one was sure to be different."
The coffee meetings? People-pleasing disguised as networking, because I hated disappointing anyone.
I kept saying yes to everything because I believed it was all a mirage - that any moment, the bottom would drop out and I'd be back at square one.
Then came the Florida opportunity.
A great client. Executive performance coaching role. Real potential to move in spring 2023. Great people. Great compensation. On paper? It was everything someone in my position should want.
But here's what hit me: Taking it meant saying goodbye to the speaking business I'd built - the teaching, the stage time, the work through Compete Every Day that I was actually passionate about.
I sat with that tension for weeks. And somewhere in the wrestling, I realized something that changed everything:
Every yes to something good is a no to something better.
I'd been so busy doing everything that I hadn't given myself the bandwidth to do the things I'd actually set as targets. My second book? Still just a Word doc with zero words. I kept telling my coach, "I'll get to it," while wearing "busy" like a badge of honor.
I was testing new programs on the apparel side. I'd spun up a monthly challenge. More projects. More meetings. More yeses.
But my main game?
The writing, the speaking, the family time? I was starving those to feed opportunities that just felt good to say yes to.
Here's what I didn't understand then: Good opportunities are more dangerous than bad ones.
Bad opportunities are easy to spot and decline. But good ones?
They're sneaky. They feel productive. They look like progress. They come with convincing justifications:
- "This could lead to something big."
- "I'd be stupid to pass this up."
- "What if I need this connection later?"
Greg McKeown nailed it in Essentialism: The Latin root of "decide" is "decidere," which means "to cut off." Every real decision is about elimination. But most of us only add; we never subtract.
I had to tell my Florida client I couldn't make the move. My heart was in Compete Every Day, and I needed to stay the course. (He was disappointed, but we're still great friends.)
And that conversation was the turning point.
This is OBLIGATIONS from the T.O.D.A.Y. framework in action - but the lesson is counterintuitive: Sometimes honoring your real obligations means saying no to good opportunities that pull you off course.
Here's what I do now that I wish I'd done then:
My priorities live on my iPhone wallpaper. On a sticky note on my computer. Before evaluating any new hire, project, or task, I run through where it fits in my priority list. If it's going to take away from a priority, I say no.
I got strict with my time. No more people-pleasing yeses. When someone asks for coffee or a networking meeting, I politely decline or tell them to circle back in 90 days. (If they do, I'll typically honor it. Most don't - which tells you how important it really was.)
I block entire days for priorities. Not just time slots. Full days. Sacred space for the work that matters most - writing, clients, family.
I adopted the 10x filter from Ben Hardy's book 10X is Easier Than 2X: If this opportunity doesn't move me 10x closer to my main goals, it's a distraction disguised as progress.
It's rare that I ever do a coffee meeting anymore. Only for someone I mentor or a key relationship that matters.
Your calendar is your scoreboard for what you actually value.
Look at your week right now.
What are you saying yes to that's keeping you from saying yes to what matters most? Those "good" opportunities might be the very things killing your competitive edge.
One thing to do this week: Audit your calendar. Find three commitments that are "good" but not aligned with your top 3 priorities. Decline them. Create that space. Protect your main game.