How to not be ruled by your calendar
How one canceled event caused me to be much more intentional about how I spend my time, and introducing a new product
I learned a big lesson recently on why white space on a digital calendar is important, and it took one canceled event to do so. (Canceled? Cancelled? Let me know your preference btw!)
The last few weeks felt very hectic — endless back-to-back meetings, soccer practices, dentist appointments, and my mom’s cataract surgery.
How had I gotten here, I thought?
Well, hindsight is 20/20. As I mentally time traveled to when I made those commitments, my calendar had looked back at me innocently with spaciousness — no plans had been set yet. My digital calendar full of literal white space. It was easy to play Tetris with the new block of time that was looking for a home in my calendar in response to “When do you want to schedule that?” because it was competing against nothing else.
“I’m free on [insert future date here],” I’d hear myself responding.
Well, guess I’m not free anymore, the-self-who-exists-on-said-future-date admonishes me. But in the present, I don’t hear that voice.
Then my second toxic trait sneaks up as I’m booking something else. As I scroll through the weeks ahead, I think, “Oh, only one thing going on that day? Well if I’m already going to be going out/in the mindset of a meeting/have something going on in the morning…” let’s book said second thing on that day, too. I like to be efficient.
And so it goes. My need to be unfiltered about my calendar (of course my kids need those appointments; of course I need those meetings; of course I can’t say no to any of it) and my optimism about being efficient and seizing the days leaves me a big calendar mess I regret the evening before each busy day, and I have to give myself a pep talk like I’m a marathon runner: “You got this! Just make it through 5 pm and you can rest! Eat a big breakfast, get your coffee, and shift your mindset so you can exert your energy at a steady pace!” I’d cheer myself on before falling asleep.
But day after day of this, it got more difficult.
Then one day, it finally happened: Something gave.
I went to pick up my 9-year-old son at the front office after his first day of kickball club, which met for an hour after school. That’s what it said on my calendar.
But he wasn’t there.
My heart dropped, surely there was a misunderstanding. I re-read the flier, showed it to the admin at the front desk, re-read my emails, nothing about him not being here. The admin went to the classroom, and as she returned with a neutral look on her face, responded, “There’s a sign on the door saying kickball club is starting next week instead.”
I started going through all the horrible scenarios in my head: What have I told my son about this situation? What would he have done? Where would he have gone? Why wasn’t he here where we agreed we’d meet after kickball club?!
Then more questions: Why didn’t I confirm with his teacher, the kickball coach? Why didn’t the school send any announcements during the day? How did all other parents know except me? Why didn’t I give my kid a phone, smartwatch, or some other tracking device?
As I mentally beat myself up on the inside, pretending to keep my cool on the outside, I stood right in front of the school calling and texting my husband, mom, family friends, parents of his friends…
My husband — who had just gotten home from work — searched the house, then retraced the way back to school he would have walked home from, then finally, ended up at the stop sign a block away where we usually pick him up.
“I found him. He’s here,” my husband called.
My voice shook as I replied, “He’s been waiting there for an hour?! By himself?!” Then I let the front staff know, near tears, shaking, and relief pouring out of me. That was the longest ten minutes ever.
They smiled back returning my relief, acknowledging how scary it was and that they’d make sure the teacher did a better job of communicating with parents in the future.
As for me? It was a huge wake up call to stop operating on calendar auto-pilot. I needed that white space back: To perhaps get to the school a little earlier, reach out to teachers…to have time to think instead of acting based on every little thing that popped up in my calendar.
Maybe having more time wouldn’t have changed anything in that day, but what it did do was help me to prioritize being present with my kids. That day I learned a little more of what my son did and didn’t know to do in certain situations, as well as to simply pay attention and have more conversations.
I’ve learned to make myself optional for meetings that didn’t directly need me to be in the agenda. I’ve canceled seemingly more-than-needed appointments, and am more protective of how many items I add in any one day.
White space in the calendar is similar to white space, the design principle. It’s the resting space in music, taking a beat in a presentation. It’s needed for balance, breathing room, and in order to simply “be.”
🎉 Check out my clothing mockups! 🎉
I’m ordering my first samples of print-on-demand, and if they look as great in person as they do here, expect to see them on my website soon. My dreams of being a stationery and clothing designer are starting to come true!
Some mockups below:







Which paintings would you like to see on a physical product? Let me know at lia@swishie.com.
🎉 Taking notes 🎉
I do have one more product to introduce: The Contemplation Notebook! Now available in the shop.
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