Perhaps you?ve heard the sentiment: ?Give it to a busy person, because they?ll get it done?? Those who have too much to do often find themselves taking on more, while those who don?t, by comparison, complain because they feel burdened by the few responsibilities they do have. I think there is some wisdom to that, up to a point.

I reached that point about three weeks ago. I had my practice, my various writing responsibilities (column, a book, an article, two journals, and then another book), my practice, a professional conference (with three workshops to prepare and present), travel, laying the foundation of research for the Lay Counselors? Network of Bermuda, reconnecting with my kids where they grew up with me in a single-parent household, and saying good-bye to my dying parents. Too much. I found myself losing brain cells over the whole thing.

While I was on the road with this, I was unable to send in column articles because I could not actually connect to the Internet, and I believe that was God?s way of saying: ?Enough, Phil. Let that go for a little while.?

The conference is over, and the workshops all went well. I got the research pieces in place. I made more progress lining up contributing authors to the second book project, and I solidified an invitation to present at a conference in Rome next year. All good, but all relatively unimportant.

I reconnected with my children, and that was very good. Then, I said goodbye to my mother, who is dying of lung cancer, and to my father, who is fading into dementia. My younger brother is caring for them both on a daily basis; when we were kids we used to share a room, and my love and appreciation of him now continues to grow. All extremely good.

The older I get the more I realise how much of what I?ve always heard is true. Family is more important than career. People are more important than programmes or possessions. The meetings, the true connections we have with others, are more crucial than the accomplishments to which we can point. I will never sit while watching a sunset in the evening and point to it in awe, speaking to one of my articles. My achievements are quickly replaced. Yet, the people in my life only grow increasingly precious.

If you are fortunate, you will get to be with people you love through important phases and share significant passages in their lives.

I sat with my mother while my brother talked with the doctor on the phone. The tone in his voice was sombre, and we all grew quiet to listen and then ask him what the doctor had said. Up to that point my mother had been optimistic, claiming she was going to beat the lung cancer.

However, the doctor had read the latest scans, and he said there was nothing more they could do for her. The mass had overtaken one lung completely.

I watched her face while he talked. She grew still. She was already hunched over a bit, but her gaze became fixed somewhere beyond the room, out past any of us. The fact that she was going to die settled down around her like a shawl. She said nothing, and then I asked her if she were OK.

?There?s nothing more that can be done. I am going to die.?

Her brow caved in anguish, and concern formed in her eyes. Tears swelled over and began to run down her cheeks. ?I know about heaven, but I like this life, and I still want to live.?

I reached out and took her hand. Her skin was thin and wrinkled, with sunspots. It was slightly cold. There was nothing I could say except that I loved her. I held her hand and looked into her eyes. Then I began to cry as well.

Thus, I shared an unforgettable moment with an important person in my life.

I would never have scheduled such an appointment among all the things I had to do, and if I had not been able to clear away things, achievements, and the like to make room for people, I may have missed it altogether.

Perhaps the busy person who can always make room for something more is not as wise as the busy person who knows what really matters and always makes room for that ? above all else.