Priorities
After failing so spectacularly at the whole “three posts in three days” thing, I realized I had the perfect intro for my second post: take ownership of your priorities. Last week was my son’s vacation, and we spent a lot of time doing (hopefully) fun family-type activities. Now, could I have squeezed in a blog post, between them? Of course. But instead, I chose to squeeze in writing, art making and–yes–sleep. Because why? Because, in the final analysis, the only person you have to answer to, the only person you should feel that you have to answer to, when it comes to your choices, is you.
No one else has to live your life and, at the same time, no one else can be responsible for your success–or lack thereof. I had someone end a friendship with me–and then take to the airwaves, as it were, to tell the world what a horrible person I was–because I didn’t respond to a text on time. And I know the temptation is very strong to always be available. But when you prioritize making yourself available to everyone else…the one person you’re not available to is yourself. Now this friend, or “friend,” if you will, if she’d truly ever been my friend she would have understood that parenting duties come first. And that, additionally, my books don’t write themselves. Just like my art doesn’t make itself and my marriage, and other family relationships don’t take care of themselves. Sometimes, the people who want the most from us are also the ones who want the least for us. Those who truly care about you, when you can’t be available, will understand.
Whereas, conversely, someone who excoriates you publicly for going to work instead of talking to them or, indeed, taking time for self-care isn’t someone you need in your life. Others don’t have to share your priorities but they do, to earn a place in your life, have to respect them. You have a right to assert boundaries. Not only that, but you’re the only one who can. It’s up to you to say, “I need to do this now.” It’s up to everyone else to sort themselves into, or out of your life by how they respond.
If it can be distilled down into a single reason, the reason I’ve written so many books, and made so much art, and done so many other interesting things over the past few years is that I’ve made doing those things a priority. I choose to write instead of responding to every message, or text, the minute it comes in. I save socializing time for later–for after work. Hours, and even days go by when I’m basically not online. Not because I’m unfriendly (that, I suppose, is a different discussion) but because I’m simply too busy. When not at work, with my family. Looking back on this time, years from now, I want to remember my son’s suspicion about green beans, his joy at finally completing potty training, his every little joy and sorrow–not what some random person said on Twitter.
Thoughts?
