I gave 738 Rotary Club speeches, and it was just driving me crazy, so someone said, 'Why don't you charge money?'

Free work has no edges

Most of us recognize the trap: you're good at something, people like what you do, so you keep doing it for free. Before you know it, you've given 738 of them. The exhaustion isn't always about the work itself—it's about the invisible weight of obligation. When something costs nothing, there's no natural stopping point. Every request feels like it should be yes.

What's clever about Grizzard's solution isn't just that money stops people from asking. It's that money makes the exchange real. Suddenly there's a genuine choice on both sides. The person inviting you has to decide if this matters enough to budget for. You get to say no without guilt because they're not paying. That shifts everything from "I should do this" to "I genuinely want to do this." Ironically, you probably start giving better speeches once you're not drowning in free ones.

The deeper insight: sometimes the problem isn't your generosity. It's that free work has no edges. It sprawls endlessly. Adding a price tag—even a modest one—can be less about money and more about reclaiming your own boundaries. Your time becomes real again instead of infinitely available.