The Power of No

We are a nation of givers. It is in our very nature, our essence, our cultural and spiritual DNA. Our communities, schools, and shuls are replete with opportunities for giving. Flip through a Jewish newspaper today and you’ll come across dozens of ads for organized giving: food for the poor, infertility treatments for those who can’t afford them, even free anonymous mental health counseling over the phone. We give time, we give money and materials, we give sweat and tears. We give and continue to give.

In giving greatly of ourselves and our resources, we receive a sense of fulfillment, and (hopefully) a heartfelt thanks. I remember being taught about giving from a very young age. In grade school, my class was sent on a fundraising mission for a community family. We raised what was – to us – a lot of money, and I remember being disappointed when the campaign was over. I’m sure you too have experienced feeling good when giving.

But is there such a thing as giving too much? And, if so, when is it okay to say “No”?

I took an unscientific poll on the services we are sometimes asked to perform. Here are some samples: pick up a few items at the grocery, drop someone off on your way to work, eat dinner with your great-uncle, bring some American cheese to Israel – or perhaps a whole suitcase of tuna fish (true story)! Requests for help range from the painless to the preposterous. Where would you draw the line? How much is too much?

If you’re like most people, you find it hard to say no to others, to turn down a request for help. Saying no feels wrong. It feels selfish. And we feel guilty. Can’t we just push a little harder, take on just a little more? We can be gripped with crippling guilt or anxiety when we turn someone down, or even think about saying no. And so, we often say yes when we would be better off saying no.

The risk of saying yes too much is the possibility, or even the likelihood, of overextending ourselves. When we give too much, we begin to feel depleted. We don’t get enough sleep; we don’t have time to take care of our own needs. When that happens, watch out! We become irritable, we may feel wronged, and all bets are off. Angry outbursts, snappy remarks and hurtful comments are commonplace. Yelling or passive-aggressive behavior is to be expected. Unhealthy self-soothing behaviors like overeating and smoking increase. And the more we are trapped in our yeses, the more we need to escape into TV, movies, the Internet, games, or the great big World of Apps. Or, if electronics are not your thing, think of excessive shopping or spending, gambling, drinking…the list goes on.

The truth is that we can only give so much. When we over-give, we are no longer giving. We take away from our families, spouses, children, work obligations, and from ourselves.

I believe that we all know this intuitively. We can sense when we’re overextended. We know that there are some things it would be better to say no to. So why do we keep over-yessing?

What stops us from saying no? When someone asks you to do something that you either don’t want to do or suspect you should decline, what thoughts run through your head? You probably don’t want to disappoint anyone, don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and don’t want anyone to think less of you. You may feel forced into saying yes, as if you don’t have a choice. You may want to be sure that you or your family looks good in the eyes of the community. Maybe you or a family member is of marriageable age, and you don’t want to mess up his or her chances. So you say yes to assuage the fear of being judged, or to avoid disappointing others. In this way we give more power to others than is warranted, and we open ourselves up to manipulation by others.

A good example of this is the stereotypical Jewish guilt:

How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb?
It’s ok, she’ll just sit there in the dark.

Another, more difficult (and perhaps more legitimate), reason to say yes is in a situation of desperate need. There are unfortunately people in dire situations: homelessness, severe financial issues, medical crises. How can we leave them hanging? Who will take care of them?

First things first: we need to acknowledge that it’s impossible to give everything to everyone, all the time. One of the first laws of economics states that there are limited resources and unlimited demands. That means that there will always be needs, real needs, that will not be met. That doesn’t mean they aren’t legitimate needs; it just means that we are limited in what we can give.

What this tells us is that ending hardship cannot – must not – be our goal. There will always be scarcity; there will always be those who are needy. If so, what should our goal be? And if our goal will leave some still in need, who will take care of those who fall by the wayside?

To that I say, in the most caring, loving way: that’s not our job. My Rebbe’s Rebbe’s Rebbe (yes, that’s three generations), the founder of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim, Rav Dovid Lebowitz, zt”l, used to say: Men darf tuhn, nisht aftuhn – we need to do, not accomplish things. We are not in the results business; we are in the business of effort. The actions are up to us, and the results are up to Hashem. Our job is not to make sure that all are cared for. God will make sure that all ends as it should; it’s up to us to do the footwork. This brings us the reassurance we need. We human beings lack the resources to do everything, but we needn’t worry. All we need to do is take the right actions, and Hashem will take care of the rest.

Finding the right actions to take is a matter of balance, of trial and error. We all need to figure out the balance that works for us. Often, we can push ourselves to give more – when it’s appropriate, and even when we’re not in the mood. But frequently, we need to allow ourselves to say no. Because by saying no, we say yes to our health, to our families, to our time alone with God.

I have heard Rabbi Zvi Turk, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva Tiferes Yisroel, say that “every emphasis is a de-emphasis”. There is no such thing as doing it all. We need to prioritize: what is most important in our lives? God wants us to take care of ourselves, He wants us to give to others, and He wants us to find our balance. Our balance, because every individual’s balance is different. It is up to each of us individually to find our healthy middle.

The middah of chessed is one of our defining characteristics as a nation. It is essential that we do it right. It’s not about giving less; it’s about giving best.

A man I admire greatly, a real giver, insists that at least one Shabbos meal every week is for family alone. No amount of cajoling can convince him otherwise; nothing is allowed to infringe on this dedicated family time. You can bet that his family reaps the benefits of this bonding time, as well as most other times when guests are welcome.

Of course, there is an art to saying no. Setting boundaries or declining an opportunity can be done in a clear, direct, non-apologetic way. We are allowed to spend time on ourselves, on our family, and on the needs we want to prioritize. Hashem gives us that choice.

As I was finishing this article, I received a phone call. A friend of a friend had just landed from out of state, and was flying out to Israel the next day. He needed a place to stay. I spent a while on the phone with him, exploring different options. After some time, I realized that I had neglected this article, several other things that needed doing, and my bedtime. I decided to give it a few more minutes, and I informed my friend-by-extension of my time constraints. A few minutes later, we had still not arrived at a solution, and I had to make a decision: help this fellow Jew for another while, or ensure that I will be well-rested for the next day. I chose to go to sleep. That decision came along with a surprising amount of discomfort. Who will care for this person? How dare I let him sleep on the street in a foreign city?

I reminded myself that God is in charge of results, and that I had already discharged my duties. I went to sleep, and I’m sure everyone I came into contact with the next day was grateful.

Clearly, I need to do some more trial and error myself. Finding this healthy balance is a work in progress for us all.

Oh, and that friend? He found a nice motel, with the help of another one of God’s many messengers.

A similar version of this post originally appeared in the August 2014 Jewish Press mental health supplement Mind, Body, and Soul. It is posted here with permission from The Jewish Press.