he topic of a meeting I regularly attend was, “Making yourself a priority.”
I am helicoptering (okay, I could have said hovering, but it took me a minute to get there.) around how I feel about that.
On the one hand, I could take the sociological path and rant about how an overfed, overstuffed, overstimulated demographic still needs to be reminded to slow down.
On the other hand I could take a lesson from my guilt laden Catholic background and pontificate(Get it? Pontificate? Catholic? I am ever so smart!) about the selfishness of this earthly life and many human priorities are misplaced.
One the other hand, there is no other hand. (said in a Zero Mostel voice raising my fist to the heavens)
The honest truth from any perspective is that I, personally have very little resolve in making myself a priority.
According to my pedometer, I walked 45 miles last week just doing my job of getting the last show of the year up and running, and ushered out. I am tired. When asked what I like to do, I didn’t have a ready answer. I enjoy writing, I just haven’t had much time to devote to it, because I am afraid of being the voice of suck.
I like to read and am right now surrounded by the early Sunday edition of the paper. There are at least 2 new magazines in the house and four unread library books. I have 3 new books on my e reader, and three unopened Netflix.
I clearly have things that I can do and that I enjoy doing, so why is the question so hard to answer?