Narrowing the Priorities
When I first moved to New York, a friend set me up on a lunch date with a woman who had the kind of career I could only dream about. We met in a leafy spot in Bryant Park. She made her red miniskirt look like the natural, obvious choice for an esteemed intellectual: completely right. I was so nervous I could barely eat; she ordered chicken skewers and a bit of dipping sauce dripped on her chin. It was like having lunch with Nigella Lawson: frighteningly intelligent, head-spinningly sensuous, and totally at ease with her body and her power. I thought she was rad.
She was also very realistic. Here was a woman with a top-of-the-heap creative job, but there were limits: “I can write and have a boyfriend, or I can edit and write,” she said, “but I can’t write and edit and have a boyfriend.”
I thought of that lunch when I saw this silly pin on Pinterest. On the one hand, it plays into all the expectations of that maddening I-don’t-know-how-she-does-it illusion. It makes me angry that’s even the expectation.
On the other hand, it’s pretty funny.
I was quick to feel like my life was a little soulless this week: I had a killer day at work on Monday, and then still managed to make dinner and go to my crazy suspended-from-the-wall strength training class. I should have felt like I was kicking ass and taking names. Instead I felt overly busy and empty. So what gave? Work, write, exercise, clean, cook––If you can only choose two any give day, maybe I was picking the wrong two. Because the thing that makes me feel most grounded, connected, and inspired is checking in here. And the days since I’ve done that have been too many.
Does the idea of only picking two priorities a day kind of send you into a panic? For some reason, putting a limit on what I can do each day feels strangely liberating. Going to the dry cleaner? That’s not happening. Cleaning out the closet? Nope. Having to look hard and choose helps me really zero in on what matters. Some days, it’s cooking and listening to Conway and Loretta while I chop onions. Other days it’s picking up a rotisserie chicken and a salad so that I have more time to do whatever else feels more important.
The list of responsibilities and to dos grows long fast. And sometimes life gets busy and we have to buck up and take care of business. But that’s different from doing it all for the sake of doing it all, all of the time. How many of us feel worse off for the constantly trying and failing?
Me, for one. There are women made of hardier stuff who can keep going and going (and going), checking off items on a list a mile long. I admire them greatly. But I’m not one of them. That kind of busyness puts me in a frenzy: it makes me feel scattered and uncentered. And to what end? Why––and for whom––would I be doing all of that exactly?
How can we duck out of the expectations it’s all so easy to buy into, and check in with our own values and needs? What really matters to us? I guess it’s all about taking things off auto-pilot, which we end up talking about here a lot. How can we keep being present in the everyday, in a way that really means something to us?
For me at least, it might be a matter of keeping things simple: Take work off the list, and then choose two: see a friend, do the laundry, cook dinner, exercise, write. Choose two. Everyday this week that’s been my mantra. It makes it clear pretty fast what’s needed, what matters, and what will really make the day feel worthwhile.
So this is what I’ve been thinking about for my weekday life, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. But I also realize it’s Friday, and you’ve got weekend baking and sexy cocktails on the brain. So on that front, Aretha is in order. Also, feathers:
Happy weekend, friends!
Photo by sweetblue on etsy































