Maybe a year ago when I was once again wrestling with the cosmic question of what the hell I am going to do with my life, asking myself ultimately, "what do I want?" I came to the realization that I cannot have it all.  No one can.  This is not a new concept, of course, but I had never really thought it through before then and now I am realizing it in a new and practical way. 

I had been the ultimate single girl for quite some time-- independent, warring against loneliness with a plethora of friends and activities to flood my social calendar.  I was educated and I managed to find jobs I truly enjoyed, but I knew it was not my greatest calling to be a waitress for the rest of my life.  I became introspective (well, more so than usual) in a quest to "live like the grass is greener on this side," and find something more than contentment in my singleness.  I had heard it said and I believed that to be single was a gift.  It meant that you were free to go and see and be and do unlike anyone else who is tied to another person.  The more I thought about all this the more I became okay with, even occasionally excited about, the idea of living the rest of my days as an unmarried woman if that's the way things worked out for me.  If this was to be the case, then the question of what I was made to do-- the question of my greater purpose in the world-- was to be answered outside of the consideration of marital partnership, parenthood and traditional domesticity.  When I let my mind explore all that this entailed, I realized that my life might ultimately reach a fork in the proverbial road and I would have to choose between the constancy of my vocational dreams or family life.  Both would require my undivided attention, at least if I were to do either with the devotion that I desire.

Eventually I came to believe that there is a writer inside of me anxious to get out, and that potentially she is a great one.  In order for her to express herself it will take much time, dedication and support.  It is possible for me to give my whole life to give her the chance of success.  As a single woman this was not a big problem, it even seemed like an exciting and noble venture.  There was something I could do with my life-- and more specifically with my days-- to be true to myself and at the same time give something to the world.

Then something happened.  I fell in love. 

I happened to meet this amazing guy who is nothing less than the kind of man I always pictured myself with.  And that is a tall order!  The kind of guy I would settle with is not someone I would have to settle for.  He would have to be nothing less than Nathan.  This is the kind of guy I can really get behind and the kind of guy I can tirelessly spend hours upon hours with. 

So I have found myself here and now with two powerful and wonderful forces in my life: vocation and love.  There are two people I am really compelled to support: that writer inside and the man in my life.  Generally speaking everything is great and I have not yet had to make any major sacrifices with one for the other, especially considering how overwhelmingly supportive my loved one is of me and my work.  Even with all that said, I have still found myself here lately understanding more acutely than ever that I cannot have it all.  That is not to say that I have reached the aforementioned fork in the road where I have to choose between the two, it is simply to say that with the presence of both in my life I am limited in my ability to devote myself fully to just one.  I find my thoughts and priorities and time divided.  All this even in addition to the more numerous, smaller aspects and relationships in my life that seem to lose bits of my attention. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am not grieveing the fact that there are too many wonderful things in my life.  My problem is more mathematical.  You see, there is 100 percent of Ashley and every day is like a pie chart where I divide my attentions and priorities, and every day something' s gotta give.  Nothing and nobody gets the whole pie.  Nor do I get the whole pie of anything else.  I taste bits and nibbles and huge chunks, but never the whole thing.  Neither do I have room for it all.  At the end of the day the simple fact remains that I cannot have it all.

All this does not depress me.  It is best that I realize it because it allows me to make reasonable choices so that whatever sacrifices I make will be worth it.  I will however say that I am not yet a maestro at orchestrating my priorities.  I am frequently finding myself disappointed at the end of a day with how much I did not get done in one area of my life or another, wondering if the things I did choose to do were worth much.  It's okay, though.  It was meant to be this way and I will get better at making those kinds of choices.  In the meantime I will do my best. 

And now I kind of want some pie.