No more excuses

It seems so much easier to just make something up. To say you’re not feeling well when you don’t want to attend your friend’s fancy dress party. To claim a heavy workload when you don’t feel like joining your aerobics class. (Does anyone still do aerobics? Let’s make it zumba, just to be safe.) A few months ago on a scorching summer day, I was sitting in a stuffy tram, fumbling my phone and wrecking my brains over how to justify cancelling my Spanish lesson to my teacher. When suddenly, a man leaned over and opened the window above my head (it’s always the men who take action, have you noticed?), and a cool breeze of relief brushed over my heated body. Why couldn’t I just tell the truth?

Most of us, I’m betting, make up excuses because we feel that our true reasons wouldn’t provide a worthy justification. In the process of jumping to the seemingly easier solution, we become dishonest both to ourselves and to our friends. Rather than reflect on the reasons we don’t want to undertake something, we take pains to invent believable stories. The reality, which dawned on me when I first promised myself to never make excuses up again, is that it’s actually much, much more uncomplicated to confess the truth than to construct a lie.

Next time you’re about to make an excuse, stop and think about your true reasons for not wanting to take part in task ahead. Perhaps you’re exhausted after a long day at work, and your only desire is to soak in a hot bath and finish the romance novel you’ve started. Could anyone blame you for that? Perhaps you’d like to see your friend face-to-face, rather than have to share their company with two dozen people whom you’ll be meeting for the first time. Would any friend hold that against you? Analysing your wants will not only help you understand your needs better, it will also gain you respect and understanding with those around you. (That said, your innate laziness is no excuse not to roll up your sleeves and get down to necessary chores.)

Back in the suddenly breezy tram, I quickly typed a text message in broken Spanish to my teacher: I was tired, felt hot and stinky, and craved most urgently for a refreshing shower. Wasn’t that but a human way to feel on a sweltering day? The next day at work, I approached an invitation to spend a week-end with my frolleagues with the same candid attitude: spending the week-end watching people I spend the whole week with drink wine (I’m a barbarian whose palate remains unattuned to such fineries) is not my idea of relaxation. ‘But we’re going to play Charades!’ My sweet frolleague exclaimed. ‘To boot!’ I retorted. And that was it.

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Come to think of it, I don’t recall being invited to any more week-end get-togethers with my frolleagues. (HA!) On the other hand (and much more importantly), my Spanish teacher and I are getting along swimmingly. It’s all about priorities!