Slices of the Pie
My husband found this beautiful birthday card for his daughter, showers of love and endearment between a proud sensitive father, and his serendipitous, joyful daughter. I chose to write her a note – holding the sentiment from the card sacred – between them. Arriving home, needing to turn around to go to our grandson’s baseball game, I jotted down my thoughts. As I shared them with my husband, he commented – ‘you should write books, write more’. I took a three part breath in, rhythmically exhaled, and held at bay an overwhelmed feeling giving rise, and thought – another slice of the pie.
I haven’t blogged since February – have a few speaking engagements which need content, clients in transition, oils in tubes screaming to be expressed on canvas, a partner looking to book face time to review a business opportunity (phone sessions while driving won’t do evaluating major decisions such as this), Rotarian ‘service above self’ community commitments, touching physically and virtually my loved ones (including walking our dog – even in the rain as was the case this morning at six) and so on and so on. As I wrapped up a planning session phone call yesterday – and we spent five minutes checking in with each other as humans – I articulated the challenge for me: “how many slices of the pie are there”? At what point does it get so thin that it doesn’t hold its triangular shape? “My Father” places opportunities in front of me to be there and help others, grow, ‘Tikkun Olam’, and built me so competently that all of these possibilities are things I do well.
What is my sweet spot, priority, greatest defining moment to leave a positive impression that will ripple into goodness beyond my visible horizon? What is the balance between ingredients in the pie that give it form, and external demands that reduce it to crumbs?
How do you decide priorities? What is the impact of those decisions? Who are you not returning a phone call to? What chunks are you taking on that perhaps are enabling others rather than empowering them?
Beautiful thoughts to ponder, on this cleansing glorious rainy Thursday in May.