The fine art of saying no
No. As we’re reminded by an oft-quoted aphorism, “no is a complete sentence.” No. No excuses. No white lies. Just no. It cuts through a misplaced sense of responsibility. It’s an unequivocal response to those who employ guilt tactics to get what they want. It’s simple and effective. Yet it’s one of the hardest things to say.
“No” is not a popular response in polite society. Many of us (particularly women) have been conditioned to go along with others, to be cooperative, and to keep giving of ourselves. We’re taught that fulfilling the requests of other people is more important than taking care of our own needs. We’ve learned that turning down other people without an ironclad excuse leads to accusations of being selfish. But few stop and ask themselves what they’re left with when they keep giving of their time, resources, and talents without filling our own wells. In many instances it isn’t until we fall ill or become burned out that we learn we’re not vending machines who offer our time and talent on command; we’re human beings who need to set boundaries in our lives in order to live joyfully and creatively.
The competitive nature of being a professional musician makes it doubly difficult to say no. In the beginning of our careers we say yes to everything. Thrilled that people want to listen to us play the piano, we agree to perform in any and all circumstances. We’re building a name, we tell ourselves. We’re creating a resumé. But in every professional musician’s life there’s a moment when they’re driving home in the middle of the night (usually in a rainstorm) fatigued from the gig they just finished and filled with dread for the one they’ve agreed to play the next day. That’s the moment when they know they either have to stop doing so much or they’ll burn out on the profession.
Cutting back is scary for gig musicians who need the work to pay their bills. Furthermore, we hate to upset people so we either take on too much, or we choose the passive-aggressive non-response known as simply not replying (i.e., “ghosting”). Both ways adversely affect our professionalism. We can’t play well when we’re doing too much, and ignoring people because we lack the backbone to turn them down gets us labeled as unprofessional and flaky.
The way forward is simple and clear yet it requires that we have compassion for ourselves as well as a deep belief that we’re worth protecting. It also requires us to have faith that our careers won’t dry up if we don’t accept every scrap of work others throw our way. When we can do these things, we’re free to look at the opportunities and requests that come to us and filter them through the lens of our own needs and priorities. We can accept those things that matter, and decline what doesn’t, knowing that in respecting ourselves and our own limits we have more to offer to the people and causes we value the most.
How do we do this? It’s easy to say that no is a complete sentence, but in polite society, we’ve learned to soften the response a little bit. In my experience it’s dangerous to add excuses or white lies when declining a request because there are quite a few people out there who will start arguing with whatever reason you put forth. The goal when saying no is to leave no “wiggle room” in your answer, while still showing kindness and respect for the person who made the request. As both a musician and as the writer of this blog I’ve chosen to say no to numerous requests and to this day I wrestle over how to say it without hurting the other person. I’ve found a few no-wiggle-room responses that have been effective for me in most situations. Hopefully they’ll be useful to you as well.
“It’s just not the right fit for me, but I wish you every success elsewhere.”
“Gee I’d love to but I can’t.” (I got this brilliant response from Jill Timmons).
“No thank you, but all the best in your endeavors.”
“I’m sorry, but that just doesn’t work for me, but thank you for asking.”
In most situations, people respond graciously and move on. Occasionally I get someone who tries to use guilt to get what they want, usually with the phrase, “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything…”
My response to that? “Don’t worry, you aren’t,” delivered in a reassuring voice and (if in person) with a wide, innocent smile.
For those no-phobic readers out there, I assure you that with very few exceptions, these responses have been received well. Some people even say they’re grateful for my forthrightness as it allows them to move on to other options. The few who have taken offense are people with whom I really didn’t want to work anyway.
The biggest gift of saying no is the freedom we give ourselves to take a deep breath, invest in our most cherished priorities, and to open up to the right opportunities that come to us. In this way we move naturally into the creative flow of our lives. In this way we are free to evolve into the people and artists we’re meant to be.
Photo by Morgan Bryon, courtesy of UpSplash