“I’m slowing down the tune, I never liked it fast. You want to get there soon, I want to get there last.” – Leonard Cohen
So I live my life mostly chasing time. I think somewhere between college and marriage and career and kids somehow the remote control of my fate seems to have gotten stuck on fast-forward and I cannot (for all I might want to) get the pause button to work. Even on days off, I am over-committed with “meetings” and “have-to’s” and “I can’t believe I almost forgot abouts.” And it’s alright. But sometimes, like the quote above, “I want to get there last.” I want to intentionally dawdle … waste time … or just be in the midst of it all.
You can ask my parents, I’ve never been in a hurry to grow up. Even going through childhood I would sometimes pause and think to myself, “This is going too fast.” Foolishly I’d try to force myself to be young, but we cannot stop it … inevitably something happens to remind us of our place – of our time. I can’t lessen the speed of days, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept it. Not really.
Instead, I’ve found ways to cope, by surrounding myself with bits of choices that refuse to run along with the responsibilities of my schedule. They tug at the corners of my day to make me play just a little. These choices are my illusion of slow … of stillness, and I add them incrementally (so life can’t catch me).
So today I wore a skirt of tule, and when I slid into the car, I needed to pause to scoop up the bunches of fabric carefully, reminding me of my wedding day, and I smiled.
I wore pink ballet flats with sparkles, and when someone told me I looked like a fairy, I shared that it is my utmost wish to be one.
The wind tickled around me, pushing stray strands of blonde about my face, and I relished in nature’s tiny game of chase.
And when no one was looking, I let myself twirl … just for the sake of lovely.