Letters from Colleen

An Ode to the Meeting That Didn’t Happen

An Ode to the Meeting That Didn’t Happen. Colleen Honestly title card with cream paper and dusty blue botanicals.

Honestly,

I’m a huge proponent of setting aside one day a week with no planned meetings. That doesn’t mean meetings won’t happen. Something urgent comes up. Someone needs help. The calendar apparently has free will.

But at least that was my plan.

One day with enough breathing room to do the work we spent the other four days talking about.

And because I feel strongly about this—and scheduling a meeting to explain it would undermine my entire position—I wrote an ode.

I have a small proposal.
No consultant. No retreat.
Just one day every week
when we decline to meet.

No “quick sync” after breakfast.
No “touch base” before two.
No meeting on the status
of the work we cannot do.

No twenty-minute pre-meet
to align before the call,
where we’ll meet to plan a meeting
with the people down the hall.

I like you, lovely coworkers.
You’re thoughtful, bright, and kind.
I’d simply like an afternoon
with access to my mind.

A stretch of time to finish
what I confidently said
would be done by last Thursday.
It’s still a tab instead.

We gather with good reasons.
We need to talk things through.
Some problems need a table
and another point of view.

But some just need an owner,
a decision, and a date.
They do not need twelve witnesses
to watch a spreadsheet update.

Imagine: it is Wednesday.
No little chime of dread.
No “Can you see my screen?”
Yes, Brenda. Go ahead.

The calendar has breathing room.
A paragraph gets written.
An actual task gets finished.
We remember we are smitten

with the work we came to work for—
the thinking and creating,
the solving and the doing,
with considerably less waiting.

Of course, the urgent happens.
A real need gets a call.
The point is making room for work,
not building some new wall.

And please don’t cram those meetings
into Tuesday, back to back.
That’s rearranging furniture
while the house is full of Slack.

Or substitute a blizzard
of “Just checking!” every hour.
A meeting wearing typing shoes
still has the same old power.

Let’s try one day together.
Protect it. Let it stand.
Give people space to follow through
on everything we’ve planned.

Then see what we accomplished.
See what needed conversation.
We can make a few adjustments
without launching a task force on
the task force’s recommendation.

I ask for no grand gesture.
No commemorative plaque.

Just one less invitation.

And a little Wednesday back.

Reflections

1. Which meetings help me do my work, and which mostly interrupt it?

2. When did I last have enough uninterrupted time to finish something that required real thought?

3. Do I trust people to make progress without asking them to keep proving they are available?

From the Toolbox

1. Choose one shared day. Pick a day that fits the team’s responsibilities, so everyone can protect the same stretch of time.

2. Give routine updates a home. Use one concise written update with decisions, owners, and deadlines. Spare everyone a scavenger hunt.

3. Define what cannot wait. Agree on genuine exceptions and how to reach one another when something urgent happens.

4. Protect the breathing room. Avoid replacing meetings with constant messages or squeezing every canceled call into the surrounding days.

5. Try it, then review it. Run a four-week experiment. Ask what got finished, what became harder, and what needs adjusting. A short conversation will do. Please do not book a summit.

Honestly,

Colleen

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