A long time ago, when I was selling photo copiers for a living, I met an older woman who gave me a piece of advice I’ll never forget.

“Darling,” she said, smoothing back her hair with steady hands, “there’s a time and a place for everything. You can’t do it all at once, no matter what they say.”

My husband at that time was working at the University of Connecticut as a temporary professor. One of the perks as his spouse was the ability to take free classes, which I thought I should avail myself of. I was feeling a thousand years behind the curve because I’d just returned from living in Iran, and I was beginning all over again. I was banging on doors from 9 to 5 in a 70-mile territory; I had two small children at home, a marriage on the rocks; and I was convinced that I should drive an hour each way, maybe three times a week, to further educate myself.

So, there I was at a print shop, waiting for my sales appointment, when I ran into the elegant older woman who gave me that advice, who told me I should give myself a break and forget the classes until my kids were older.

What she’d done after her children had grown made her words memorable. She and her husband sold their house, moved to Switzerland, and studied together at the Carl Jung Institute. At 60, they moved back to the U.S. and opened a booming psychiatry practice. In each of the stages of her life, including the one as a mom and housewife, she’d felt happy and fulfilled.

I think our generation struggles so with the Super Woman mindset: This notion that we should be able to do it all, have it all, be it all, then balance it all, NOW, NOW, NOW, in order to be enough.

We consider ourselves fucking losers lazy if our house isn’t spotless. If our children aren’t adorably talented, our career impressive, our abs six-pack-alicious, our sex-life worthy of Penthouse. If we don’t have a couple of side businesses, a book on the bestseller list, and a circle of hilarious friends who meet for brunch on Sunday mornings wearing Gucci.

It’s why we keep looking for THAT ONE time management secret that will help us pack it all in.

I believe we can have it all, just not all at once.

This coming from someone who operates an intensive business, climbs big mountains, runs ultra-marathons, writes, speaks, and travels the world like it’s my job.

We’re human beings AND there are only 24 hours in a day. Something has got to give. Let me be more precise: Something WILL give.

I’m highly suspect of people who claim to have all aspects of their life totally under control. I tend to chalk up much of that bullshit to spin. I wonder how they managed to cover up their stint in rehab, or their gruesome 3rd divorce, or the fact that their kids haven’t spoken to them since 1996, that sort of thing. But that’s probably just me being bitter.

I do believe that you can have a lot more, and that there are some really valuable tricks of the trade when it comes to having it all—secrets that are worth bending an ear for: drawing boundaries, saying no, asking for help, delegating, repurposing, drop kicking perfectionism, and so on, and so forth.

But I really think the only way to forgive ourselves for not winning the Master of the Universe Award is to set some priorities, priorities based on our highest values, and let the other stuff go to hell, at least for the time being.

Otherwise you walk around in ratty pajamas all day feeling totally defeated, and hopeless, which is so not how you want to do this gig.

My kids are grown and out of the house. I’ve done the heavy lifting there. And it’s true, what that wonderful stranger said, I have time, now, to pursue all those things I was chomping on the bit to do. All those things that would have felt unbelievably overwhelming way back when.

I still have to choose, EVERY SINGLE DAY, what I’m going to focus my time and attention on, and what will get waaayyyyy short shrift. So, sorry, if you’re looking for balance, it ain’t here.

Today I’m writing, and my house looks like looters have ransacked it.

I’ve been focusing on a number of client projects, and my memoir is gathering dust in the bottom drawer.

I’ve conducted some great on-line writing courses, and my friends can’t remember the color of my hair.

But that’s OK. Because I know that the in-basket is always full, and that there’s a season for everything.

And that it’s not a crime to use cliches. Thank God.