"Priority" Has Been Swirling in My Head

It started pretty quietly, the way big waves often start. No big deal, just a morning message.

I was supposed to go spend a couple of hours with a friend, enjoying and hopefully contributing to her special project.

Then, before I made my way to her place, something happened. Nothing big at first.
For some reason, I read the summary about the updated guidelines for routine mammograms. Somewhere in there a sentence about “women over 74 who are healthy not needing yearly screening.” Again, no big deal.

Except for my beloved, super-healthy friend who just died pretty darn fast days away from her 76th birthday. No one’s fault, these guidelines make plenty of sense I am sure. But my breathing changed. A door cracked. A door I had certainly not sealed nor slammed but a door which because it is now part of my forever house, I had been taking my time opening all the way. And today, this morning when I was about to go be with my other friend, the door flew open and well I just couldn’t leave the house.

Grief had called and grief I knew had to be allowed its moment. Then it would go to sleep for a while until who knows what its next cue to wake up would be.

I sent a message and I canceled. I hoped she would understand.

I filled my kitchen sink with hot soapy water. I moved slowly.

I let the grief boss do its thing and take over my head, my heart, my body, and my schedule. Of course, as I was taught a decade ago by a wise teacher: When we open The Grief Box, there are a lot of other grieves waiting for us in there. Indeed there were.

But this is not an article about grief. It’s an article about priorities. Specifically about some questions about priority.

Because after I canceled, even though I knew it had been the right thing to do, I felt bad. I felt as though I had not made my friend my priority.

This, in my already sensitive state, turned into a whole bunch of swirly questions.
WHO am I a priority for?
WHO is a priority for me?
And then
Is it really important to be someone’s priority?

Ooooo boy. I had my work cut out for me.

What follows is much more of an exploration than a sharing of what I know.

I know what it feels like to be someone’s priority. I have experienced it. It feels nice.

The phone gets picked up, we are listened to, we are given to. Given time, energy, and yes, security. Or at the very least the illusion of security. Is this free? Sometimes yes and sometimes not. Sometimes it is part of an exchange, spoken or not, acknowledged or not.
I know also what it feels like to make someone a priority. I have experienced it. Certainly with my children, especially in their early years. Part love and part biology guiding the process. I still experience it with my children, but differently. With boundaries. Maybe we could call it “Intentional Priorities.”

Then there is the “Priority of the Moment” type of priorities, and those, I love recognizing. Because their clarity makes action simple, unquestioned. When I learned that the friend I mentioned earlier was a the very end of her life, being with her instantly became my priority. I canceled whatever was in front of me, I turned airmiles into a ticket and I got on a plane. This intensity of Priority of the Moment is powerful and clear.

It’s the long-term, ongoing one that has me squirming.

Who am I a priority for? I wondered this morning.

Oddly enough, I could not come up with an answer. People who love me? Many. People who will take care of me if I need it? Several. But a priority? A “put me first each day every day” priority? I am not sure.

Who is a priority for me? came next. Of course, my kids, still. My granddaughter, too. But then … why am Iiving in another country, huh? Answer this one, Laura. I can’t.

Then there is the lovely option of being each other’s priority. That’s likely when being married or in a committed partnership comes in. You are my priority and I am yours. When it works, it’s pretty cool.

Still bathed in my grief stew and with my sink full of soaking dishes, showed up the next question, kind of a big one: Why is it important to be someone’s priority? “Security” stood up, raised its hand, and presented a good case: “If you are someone’s priority, you will never go hungry or sad, or lay on the bathroom floor with a broken leg.” Then quickly another hand was raised: “ME!” said Ego. “Me, me, me. I LOVE being a priority. It feels soooo good.” Yes, I get this. I remember this. And I also remember how much I have occasionally paid for both Security’s and Ego’s answers.

I shared my musings with someone I love. Someone who made me a priority for a time and someone who claimed I hadn’t made him one.

We batted the word around. We explored. I went back to my dishes. I was feeling a mix of loneliness and the sense that I was getting closer.

I would like it to be simpler. I would like to look at someone and know, for sure know that they are my priority, my number one, my no-doubt, my no-matter-what. But then, when I imagine this I wonder about my kids, my grandbaby, my furry girls, my friends, my work, and people who are hurting whom I have never met. What do I do with THAT?

Maybe for me, my priority is more about an Essence - or two.
Maybe it’s my intuition, my Guide.

I don’t have a nice bow to tie on this topic. Yet. I think it’s coming.
I hope your mind is quieter than mine, today. I hope your questions are more easily answered.

I hope you are well 💛

This life…