Yesterday was Sunday and I whined about how short weekends are and how I wasn’t ready for work. But wait…today’s Friday. What happened?
More importantly, what did I do during this week? Worked, came home, ran errands, did chores, fed animals, talked to the kid…all the usual weekly and daily traditions. And now the week is over.
Was I kind? Did I do something caring in the midst of strangers? Did I do something that will have meaning, or will last? Or was I in the weekly rut?
It’s scary how fast time flows. Maybe it’s just that there’s an impending birthday on the horizon. Maybe it’s just that I realized a thirty-year-old was born during a time when I was already an adult. Either way, it’s flying and I’m trying to hold on to the slipstream.
Over the past two years there have been so many changes.
I’ve been drawn away.
I’ve walked away.
I’ve laughed a lot.
I’ve cried a little. Quietly and alone to not sadden those I care for.
I’ve started new things, stepped onto new paths.
And it’s all happened so fast.
And one of these days that slip of time will slow and then stop.
I want to discover how to pause in the middle of the race, how to actually see what rushes by.
I want to remember to breathe, to touch, to walk in the woods, to write, to help, to be there for others, to smile at strangers, to hold the door, to ease someone’s day.
In the meantime, it’s now afternoon and there are several things that need to be accomplished before evening so I’m going to end this and rush away.
Not before pausing to say I hope your day brings one thing that makes you smile, or breathe, or rest, or just be.