Stress As Mission Creep

Since childhood, Ramona had been a passionate and talented knitter. Even now, at the end of a long office workday, she liked nothing better than to tuck into her favorite chair and relax with her yarn bag. In her hands the needles flew, and beautiful creations seemed to tumble from them like magic.

So, when a friend asked if she would make a few baby items for the local homeless shelter, Ramona was happy to oblige.

Then, someone at the shelter saw her work and asked if she might make a few more for their fundraiser. After all, this was for homeless mothers and children.

“Could you make them in a few different colors?”

Ramona said yes. She purchased extra yarn and set aside more time in the evenings.

The local public television station did a piece on the shelter fundraiser, and the reporter loved the knitted baby things. The station contacted her about their fund drive — after all, she was a member.

And they asked Ramona, “Please can you make just a few more…and could they be in this particular pattern with organic yarn from one of our underwriters?”

Ramona suddenly found herself inundated with deadlines, specific colors and patterns, different yarn requirements, and commitments that went far beyond the comfortable and relaxing time that an evening’s knitting was supposed to be. But she had said yes, yes, and yes, when it had all seemed so very reasonable — and she felt she couldn’t back out of her commitments.

When it was all done, a year and a half later, she put away her knitting and never went back. Knitting had gone from something relaxing to dealing with just another piece of stress.

That’s a classic example of “stress as mission creep.”

Mission creep is a military term. It’s when projects or goals, which are beyond the original objectives, are added to an operation. It can be harmless — or completely derail the primary mission.

That’s exactly what happened with Ramona. Her knitting was impeccable and so Ramona appreciated that more and more people asked for her help and for her work.

Like the frog in a pot of slowly heating water, she didn’t realize she was overextended until it was too late to escape the circumstances without breaking her word to a number of people.

And it transformed something that had been a favorite pastime to becoming just one more stressful task to check off her list.

Ramona’s knitting quandary is another version of not understanding our boundaries and not taking care of ourselves.

There are some stresses we can’t avoid: a boss who micromanages, a house full of children, financial ups-and-downs, world political tensions that affect us — whether indirectly or directly. We don’t actively invite those stressors into our lives, but they happen, and they’re a part of today’s world.

When we don’t think carefully about our time and we fail to take care of ourselves, then the small requests for our time and resources can become demands before we know it.

Many people can see someone’s good nature or talents and reason with themselves, “I can ask him to do one thing, it’s not a problem.”

Here’s another way to look at it.

Museums are amazing places. They are doorways into the past, showing us who we were and how we got to be where we are now. And in many museums, artifacts are put on display close enough to touch.

• A wedding gown for a very small woman from 1835, the lace fraying and fragile.
• A fire engine from the 18th century, all wood and metal and holding the memories of centuries.
• A corn-husk doll with a fading calico dress that saw Indian raids and rough living with its little mothering child.

Everywhere, these precious items beckon you, whispering “Learn about us. Find out about us.” But, there are signs in museums that read “Please do not touch,” and there are good reasons for every one of them.

My husband ran a Revolutionary War museum with eight different buildings. Each one has a version of those signs. And this is because the items on exhibit are no longer the fresh, robust makings that they were in years gone by. Time has taken its toll. Therefore, that simple request is made so that all may wonder at them, enjoy them, and learn from them.

Yet, invariably, someone says to themselves, Oh, one touch won’t matter. And they reach out over the barricade to finger these precious pieces of the past. They tug on a bowstring to see how strong it was. They flip the sleeve of a gown to see how it was made. They run their hands along the peeling paint of a harpsichord, and tentatively finger one or another of the yellowed keys.

Now, imagine that happening month after month, year after year, by far more than one person. Because one person felt they could ignore the rules, and then another and another, these treasures are marred, damaged, and corrupted by dirt and the body oils of those who touched them. Eventually, these artifacts are taken off display to preserve them against those that thought the rules did not apply to them. As a result, the wonder of them is denied to everyone — even those who respected the rules and requests.

That’s another version of “stress as mission creep.” One touch may not matter, but the whole will build up until the object collapses under the stress of contact, contaminants, and a lack of understanding about how to preserve artifacts.

How to Avoid “Stress As Mission Creep” In Your Own Life

Be aware of time commitments. I know in my life, as my career has taken off and more and more days are filled with clients and writing, I can’t be there as much for long phone conversations or spontaneous days off or holding to promises wheedled out of me. True friends understand that it’s not a lack of caring that we don’t chat on the phone for an hour anymore, and it doesn’t mean I don’t support their charities or activities.

It is simply that I have a 24- hour day — as does everyone else — and more of it is committed than used to be.

It also means I make darn sure that any extra time I have fulfills me in some way: either through direct self-care or doing something with and for people or groups that truly matter to me.

Think carefully before you say yes. In fact, delay. In my younger days, it was a given that I’d join a group and within a month I’d be one of the officers or otherwise acquire massive responsibilities. Why? I’ll be blunt. I am a natural leader type with a strong personality, and ability to take command of a situation and get it done.

It’s why I never enjoyed anything for very long. I never gave myself a chance to have fun and learn about a group before running it. As a result, I would leave after a year or two, feeling unfulfilled and tired. What looked like it would be tremendous fun turned out to be just one more responsibility I didn’t need.

When someone asks you for a favor or a time commitment or anything that might cause stress, never automatically agree.

Say, “Let me check my schedule and get back to you” or “I don’t want to say yes until I know I can follow through, I’ll let you know.”

If they repeatedly push to get you to say “Yes” before you are ready, then you know they are not thinking of you or the project, but of themselves. They will not respect your time or your no.

In that case, your answer should be a flat, “No, sorry.” Then, stick to your guns about it.

Understand that guilt is useless for everybody. Clients often tell me, “I really didn’t want to do it, but I felt guilty after I said I would.” Another version is, “I felt so guilty about saying no; I didn’t want to look selfish.”

Guilt is an utterly worthless emotion.

It doesn’t feel good to you.

It is usually used as a weapon or a goad by someone who wants to control and manipulate.

It doesn’t give you any extra energy; in fact, it saps energy from you.

When you catch someone trying to guilt you into a commitment, remember another wonderful military phrase: “Tactic perceived is no tactic.”

If you see clearly that someone is using guilt as a motivator, call them on it. “Jeanne, I know you want me to go with you to the nursing home tomorrow. I know you hate having to see your mother on your own. But you’re trying to guilt me into going, and it isn’t going to work. That will push me away from future trips, rather than get me to come with you another time.

Accept my no this time gracefully, and perhaps I’ll be able to say yes in the future.”

Say this kindly, reasonably, but firmly. And watch the reaction.

If the person trying to guilt you into doing something denies their actions or gets mad, that’s a huge indicator that they are not likely to be someone who reduces your stress. So you may want to rethink any commitments with them at all.

Don’t use guilt on yourself as a motivator, either. If you need to do something, and you no longer want to, you can certainly acknowledge that. But buckle down and do what you can. Remember that the sooner you get it done, the sooner you will be able to say no to it next time.

If Ramona had understood “stress as mission creep,” she would have stuck with making baby clothes for the shelter and said no to the other requests.

I would have sat on my hands instead of raising them to volunteer all the time during my younger years.

And perhaps those museum visitors would have kept their hands to themselves, and enjoyed the artifacts by merely observing and asking questions of the docents by the exhibits.

These days, the world puts enough stress on our plate; it’s not usually something we enjoy. Make sure you don’t ask for second helpings by saying yes to more things than you can handle comfortably, no matter how much people beleaguer you to do so.