What is it with our fascination with hurrying? The constant movement,
the pacing,
the strive to go in leaps and bounds. What is it with our penchant for busyness? Carrying it like a badge of honor,
like being busy is an acknowledgment of our existence.
Why is it that we decide in haste? That the fear of missing out is so great that we fear of missing out on most things. We are afraid of not making our marks. We are afraid of standing still. We are afraid of stagnation. We are afraid of staying in the space that we are now.
Why is it that culture demanded us to chug along. Tugging and hurling and grinding. That we even embraced, that to be in life we have to struggle. We have to prove our points. We have to set firm pace. We have to hurry along like the hare in the race.
Only to find out
that in the absence of waiting
we lose. Only to find out that
when we fail to give space to our stories,
we risk committing the same mistakes. Mistakes of making choices
stemming from what other people demanded from us. Mistakes of knowing our boundaries. Not knowing what our bodies crave
and what our minds, in it's moment of stillness can achieve.
And yet we go on this hamster wheel of a life. Running around in circles. Never fully owning that we have a choice. A choice to set the pace. A choice to our yes's and our no's. A choice to own our energy. A choice to live with more intentions. A choice to be in with ourselves in the moment.
I don't know what it is with our fascination for hurrying. Or on busyness. Or on hustling. All I know is I have made my choice. Have you made yours?
Written March 3, 2017