obligation.

One of the side effects of extracurricular clutter is the number of friendships-of-convenience that begin to accumulate over the years. I've found this to be particularly true in the theatre. One moment, I'm sharing a laugh or a drink after rehearsal, and the next, I find myself committed to attending birthday parties, fundraisers, baby showers, and every production my new "friend" happens to participate in until the end of time. Hello, calendar clutter.

I'm not saying it's a bad thing to support your friends. But let's be real here: All 525,600 of them are not actually my friends. Many of them -- the vast majority, really -- are acquaintances. And that's great! It's nice to have a wide circle of people with shared interests and networks. In fact, most of my closest friends are people I met through theatre and dance, and I'm very grateful for them.

But. But, but, but. Through minimalism, I've begun to realize that accumulating relationships is just as problematic as accumulating physical things. As individuals, our time, attention, and focus are finite resources -- and when they get depleted, we feel miserable.  In order to remain sane and balanced, we have to make choices about how we spend our time. Sometimes, those choices are easy. Sometimes they suck. Regardless, we still have to make them.

For me, it's been difficult to shake the guilt that comes with saying no. It's become such a habit for me to say yes to every social invitation that comes my way, that it feels awkward and uncomfortable to turn things down. The sense of obligation weighs on me, so much so that it becomes a running inner monologue: What will Soandso think if I miss her show? Will other Soandso stop inviting/casting/calling me if I don't agree to do this thing? And what about the Soandsos who came to my last show/party/whatever? Don't I owe them this?

The short answer is: no. Unless Soandso gave me a kidney or her firstborn kitten, I don't really owe her anything. Relationships are not about owing; they are about connection. And I'd so much rather connect over a cup of tea, or on a long walk, or around my dining room table with people I actually care about -- and who actually care about me -- than sit through another production of Show I Don't Even Like.

A great man once wrote, "We lose things, and then we choose things." I'm not one to quarrel with genius, but I'd suggest that it also works the other way around: We choose things, and then we lose things. By making choices, we are often actively saying no to something or someone else. Sometimes, that feels like a loss; sometimes, it feels like freedom.

By minimizing obligation, I'm now free to spend my time in a more thoughtful and authentic way. Saying no more often means that when I say yes, I actually mean it. It means I have the bandwidth to actually show up -- not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, as well. It means being fully present for the dear friends, thoughtful commitments, and exciting spur-of-the-moment invitations that come my way.

And best of all, it means I get to actually enjoy them...no obligation required.