Here we are, finally, at the final step in boundary prioritization: just doing the dang thing already. So.

What deserves your yes today?

I saved the Do Now step for last. You get to the “do” once you’ve deleted, delayed, and delegated. This is where the shift from overwhelm to clarity really happens if we’ve gone through the other steps already. We need to clear the noise. Otherwise, your doing is scattered, resentful, and overextended.

In the 4Ds of Prioritization—Delete, Delay, Delegate, Do—up next is  Delegate.

If Delete is saying “no” and Delay is “not yet,” then Delegate is: “This doesn’t have to be mine to do.”

One of my clients thought she was already good at delegating as she is a well-experienced department head until she started using the 4Ds. In the middle of a stressful accreditation cycle, she realized:

“Normally, I would have lost my mind trying to map competencies into our accreditation documents. But then I stopped and remembered: I have a whole committee for this. Instead of panicking, I handed it over. Each person took one page. It wasn’t mine to carry alone.”

Delegation is choosing not to collapse under the invisible weight of control.

In the 4Ds of Prioritization - Delete, Delay, Delegate, Do - today we turn to Delay.

If Delete is the clean, firm “no,” Delay is the softer “not now.” 

It’s a “not now” rather than delete because there’s something about it that fits in with your priorities or your actual required job tasks (not the ones you make up and self-assign due to overing). 

Delay is the boundary that protects your pace and keeps urgency culture from hijacking your nervous system.

When I worked with one corporate client, she was leading a team inside a workplace that glorified speed. Every request was marked “ASAP” or came with !!! marks in red. She told me she felt like her brain was always revving, never resting. Chasing disco dancing squirrels, we’d joke.

I shared the 4Ds of Prioritization (Delete, Delay, Delegate, Do Now) as a boundary-setting practice. Let’s dive into the first one: Delete.

Delete is the cleanest, simplest boundary. It’s the power of saying “no.” But for many of us, especially those of us trained in people-pleasing, caretaking, or perfectionism, it’s also the hardest. 

I’ll never forget a conversation with one client who’s an experienced head of a department. She, like many others, came to coaching because she was drowning in commitments at work and home, unable to catch her breath.

Last week, I had a few days in San Diego with family commitments, but snuck away for an afternoon at the Pacific Ocean. The kiddo and I rode the waves by throwing our bodies into them, feeling into the push-pull rhythm in a way that stays in your body well after leaving. But at first, it felt foreign to my body. I stood with my back to the ocean, feeling the waves and then watching their foamy ripple move towards the shore. A few times, they’d rise taller, smacking me so hard on my back that it took my breath away or knocked me down, while salty water stung my eyes from flooding my face.

That mix of steady back and forth with some strong overcoming waves feels a lot like the moment folks are in right now.

Are you feeling some late-summer jitters or that unnamed dread of the school year (regardless of whether you have kids or not)? I mean, I just sent my kiddo off to 7th grade last week!

Whether you're in academia, an education-adjacent role, or simply feeling the cultural pull of the back-to-school season (hello, school supplies overflowing even in the grocery store), that creeping anxiety often comes unannounced and unwelcome.

Let’s meet it with presence, not panic.

Increasingly, it seems, or maybe it’s my aging, but every year when August rolls in like an unwelcome heatwave. A bit oppressive and uncomfortable. Lots of overwhelm in all the things to do, which then increases my anxiety. Work spills over into home time more and more, the tensing of the shoulders, tightening jaw, and a dread that blankets everything.

For me, my tolerance for what I lovingly call the bullshitery is at an all-time low. Some of that is due to heat and politics. Some of it from all the things happening in the world and country. Largely, though, with the ongoing work of healing my body and nervous system since leaving academia, I’m less interested or available to put up with inhumane work norms, for myself and for you.

Contrary to popular belief, boundaries at work don’t start with an email or a policy. They start with a moment of self-honesty.

In the world of work, especially for those of us called to lead, care, or create, we’re taught, subtly or directly, that being endlessly available equals being valuable. But the truth is: overgiving, overexplaining, and overextending don’t make you indispensable; they make you depleted.

We need to talk about your personal expectations (for yourself and others). 

More directly, and not to hurt your feelings: Why are they so high!?

And when you or others don’t meet them, you think more self-discipline is the answer. 

It’s probably not. It’s more likely that you need clearer systems on how you work and more clarity on why you’re doing it–with some real good value-aligned boundaries around all that to protect your time, energy, resources, and wellbeing.

That chronic burnout lifestyle of the old me? That was a lack of internal boundaries. My exhaustion, resentment, anger, poor health habits, injuries…all from zero internal boundaries.

A lot of folks I talk to who feel stuck at the edge of the big career question–Should I stay, go, or make a shift? What if I told you that you can feel different inside the work you have rather than leaving.

Helping clients plan sabbaticals with creative intention and true rest comes up often with my coaching clients. I think back to my own sabbatical before stepping into a department chair role. I’m so grateful I took that year (even with partial pay) because it took months just to unwind from the constant overing and hustle. Only in the second half of that year did I learn what a sabbatical is really meant to be: active, creative rest.

When Susan joined Stay, Go, or Transform Your Career, she was at a breaking point. Here’s her story.

After almost three decades in her academic role and institution, Susan felt emotionally and physically exhausted, isolated, and trapped by decades of “shoulds” that no longer fit. She was a few years from retirement and questioning if she could stay or should pivot out now. If she stayed, she felt “hijacked by academic culture,” weighed down by unfinished projects, and deeply disconnected from her own sense of worth and possibility. If she left, she felt unsure of her transition into the next chapter of retirement or a non-academic next career.