My 12 year old granddaughter is both bright and beautiful.
She is a straight A student and a wizard on the basketball court. She is as good an athlete as she is a scholar. She's very verbal and articulate. She has strong opinions and doesn't mind sharing them. She, in every way possible, is a joy and
delight.
My wife and I, during this virus isolation, walk a lot. We
usually either walk around the cul de sac of our subdivision or drive ten minutes to Ft.
Oglethorpe and walk a couple of laps on Barnhardt Circle. Barnhardt Circle
provides an easy .7 mile walk around a slight grade. It also provides a place
to walk with little or no vehicle or pedestrian traffic. All this walking gives
us plenty of time to talk. Our
conversation flows from topic to topic. We talk about whatever series we’re
watching on TV, and we talk about our family and friends. Very seldom do we
walk without talking about our granddaughter and a significant four year old
little boy. Besides talking about our granddaughter’s current accomplishments
and brilliant things, we often reminisce about “days gone by.” On our last walk
at Barnhardt Circle this morning, we had one of those conversations.
Ten years ago, when she was two years old, our granddaughter said something that
affected my wife and me very deeply. We didn’t realize it at the time, but over the years she has saved
us a lot of wasted time and grief by what she said. This is what our two year
old granddaughter said to us that day that changed everything for us. On this
particular cold morning in West Lafayette, Indiana she was all bundled up and riding her tricycle
down the sidewalk. We were walking along for her protection from the street.
Her father had his cellphone out and was following her and taking pictures of
her. What she was trying to say, we think, is “please stop taking photographs
of me”, but how it came out was, “Daddy, I don’t want to take a picture because
I don’t want to.” Now stop and think about that for a minute. Wasn't she saying, “The only reason I don’t want
you to take pictures of me is because I don’t want you to”. And she let it go
at that. I would guess that you, like
me, have over the years come up with a multitude of reasons and excuses to give
somebody when they ask you to do something that you really don’t want to do.
Instead of just saying, “No, I don’t want to” we make something up to justify
not going along with the request. We have to have some good reason. Sometimes
in the absence of a good reason we just
lie about it. Another response that I think is rather common is that we say “yes”
and just go along with it. We then find
ourselves spending time and effort in some activity that we really don’t enjoy
just so we don’t hurt someone’s feelings. Not hurting someone’s feelings is a
good thing, but not when it involves something that we really don’t want to do.
In that case, we hurt our own feelings. And aren’t our feelings as important
as anyone else’s? If our feelings don't matter then no one else's feelings matter all that much either.
So take it from my two year old granddaughter, a perfectly
good reason for not doing something is simply because you don’t want to do it.
Maybe it’s possible to be more diplomatic than just to say, “I don’t want to”
but that’s the gist of what you’re trying to say. You at least say it to
yourself while you’re deciding how to put it. If you consider what my granddaughter said and
what I’m saying about what she said, I think that you will see the vast wisdom
in it. All of this to say that “I don’t want to” is a perfectly good reason to
decline the offer. And it’s the only reason that you have to have. So take it
from a very bright two year old, if you don’t want to do something, just say that and leave
it at that. "I don't want to" is the only reason you need to have.
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