I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like a hamster. No, I’m not growing fur and shrinking to the size of a cute little creature. Although I am shrinking every year, but that’s another blog.
It’s because I now understand how it feels to be running on a wheel nonstop and getting nowhere.
I can’t be the only one that feels the non-stop craziness of the activities that keep our minds spinning.
Of course, I’ve learned that to help stop the flow of madness one need only turn off the news.
Yes, I do believe you can live a longer and more idyllic life in the world of “I know nothing,” than in the world of awareness.
But I digress, as usual. So how do we decide what to filter from our consciousness and what to allow in? How fast to move and absorb life’s moments?
It may be just the pleasantness of childhood memories that assures me life was much slower then. Or I may be correct in the assumption that the pace was mellower.
It seems the only running I did was when playing sports or to catch a bus.
Before our families owned a second car, it was usually our fathers that drove to work.
Our Moms found activities within walking distance in the neighborhood or were picked up by a friend who was lucky enough to have a car.
Our mode of transportation was our feet or an occasional bus ride. Mostly to downtown or a shopping center newly built nearby.
Travel was a slow and deliberate activity that happened with planning and purpose.
Even walking to the nearby drugstore to sit at the soda fountain or buy a new Archie annual was planned and executed leisurely.
The activities of life were relaxed and purposeful.
So why does it seem these days every movement is designed to raise our fitness level and get our hearts pumping?
Even shopping, which I now call retail cardio is no longer a slow and lazy stroll to view shop windows and wish to be as thin as a mannequin.
Window shopping was shared with friends or family, many times after a relaxing lunch or dinner.
There was purpose and enjoyment to our movement, not simply to log steps on our pedometers.
So, you’re thinking, what’s your problem? At your age there is no need to rush or run through life any longer. You can definitely slow your roll now. Nope, see that’s the irony. It’s not about having the time to take a breath, it’s about the ability.
The pace of life we ultimately grew into and adopted has now become part of our psyche. We no longer just automatically stroll, or move like determined turtles.
We are now programmed to be the hare in our race.
There is a certain amount of guilt inherent in wasting time. Not making the most of every second seems like squandering our lives.
Okay, so yes, one can disguise idleness by calling it meditation. The moments spent in relaxing and listening to our breath reassures us we are using time wisely for health reasons.
Very few of my friends don’t readily admit time is flying by at a faster pace now. The years seem to move ahead at lightning speed.
But of course we know this isn’t the case. The earth still needs 365 days and one extra on leap year to complete a rotation.
So why do we believe time is darting by?
Is it really so fast and spinning like a top instead of moving like a snail?
Why can we no longer just sit and relax while basking in the nothingness of stillness?
Do the years seem to move quicker because there are less of them now? Where once we saw a never-ending supply of time before us, now we see that dreaded stop sign?
So perhaps we move faster to capture all the life we can, gobbling up moments like the last vestiges of crumbs off a yummy chocolate cake.
I imagine there is a rhyme and reason to our pace, but I wonder if it’s not about us at all.
Perhaps we are merely victims of a culture shift so dramatic we never saw the impact it might have on our lives.
It ingrained itself into our lifestyle like the Internet on steroids.
Is it our responsibility to take back our leisure? To create slow and meaningful moments of quiet once more?
And of course we must ask ourselves, is it even possible?
I talk to friends all the time that complain they are not busy enough. They need more to do. We have been told we will live longer if we stay busy and active.
So we rush around looking to fill our days and move quickly to avoid any consequences relaxation might bring.
Yet isn’t the stress of constantly seeking activity and movement bad for our health? Is there a way to find that perfect balance between strolling and dashing through life? Perhaps it’s just as simple as the fact keeping busy avoids thinking about time passing?
I have no idea. But I am not going to feel guilty if I choose to stay at home and watch a movie, read a book or try a new recipe. I think I often forget that no moment of one’s life is ever wasted if we are living it the way we choose. Even if it’s not at seventy miles an hour.
Published by
Published
