Years ago I read something about doing push-ups. The writer was making the point that doing push-ups was harder for her than for others. She said that although it looks like a simple push-up, she wasn’t just pushing herself up, she was pushing the world away.
I’ve often thought of that reference. And smiled.
I have often walked a very fine line between being busy and on top of everything, to being overwhelmed and buried in things. Since childhood, I haven’t tolerated boredom. I’d far rather be running around like a crazy woman than be bored. And there are definitely days when I step over that very fine line.
I’m not real good at recognizing the signs for when I’ve taken on too much. I tend to be optimistic and think I can do whatever I set my mind to. Until it’s too late. And it’s blown up in my face. Again. It would be nice if I could learn to see it coming before it actually blows.
Some time back, I was starting to miss appointments. I had things scheduled on the calendar, but wouldn’t look at the calendar until it was too late. Or I’d have things written on the calendar for the same times. One appointment here and another there, scheduled. Same time, same day. I knew I’d stepped over the line again, and could feel the craziness engulfing me. Too much. Too many obligations. Too many expectations. I couldn’t do it all. And in trying, I wasn’t doing any of it well.
I needed to slow down. Needed to slow my world down.
It’s a common theme in our culture, I think. Families have gotten busier, children are swamped from the time they begin kindergarten, if not before. Both parents are having to work full-time out of the home. Life has become too busy. We are all in the fast lane, all the time. And we’re raising our children in the fast lane. It seems like we are putting increasing demands and expectations on our children. We’re stressing them out. Teen suicide is at a peak. And we wonder why. Teen drug abuse is at a peak. And we blame it on the accessibility of drugs. But we keep doing the same thing. Creating a mix of stressed out, driven kids; and kids who’ve quit and dropped out because they just can’t compete. Life’s too fast. They can’t keep up. So why try?
Recognizing my own signs of being driven and having too many things on my plate, I decided a few years ago that I needed to do things a little differently. I needed to slow down.
I started walking. Every day. Rain or shine. Which is a misnomer. Southeast Alaska in the fall, winter, spring and even summer is rarely shine. I have walked in rain, sleet, snow, hail, wind, even more wind, and sideways rain. I’ve walked through snow, on ice, through puddles, and occasionally on dry ground. I’ve walked alone, with the kids, with my husband, with friends, and with our dogs.
I’ve frozen. And sweated. I’ve gotten muddy. And wet. I’ve lost some weight. And gained some muscle. And my walks have gone from drudgery to one of the highlights of my days.
But one of the biggest things I’ve noticed about walking every day is that the world slows down while I’m walking. I notice things I hadn’t noticed before. I see the snow and ice melting away, and make note day by day of the increasing bare ground. Today my teenage son and I even noted the first few green blades of grass. I’m starting to recognize specific types of birds, and noting the return of some of our smaller songbirds. Soon I’ll be taking note of the growth of wetland grasses, and the blooming of wildflowers.
And for an hour a day I’m taking time to think. To be. I’ve been able to problem solve a few issues which have puzzled me. I’ve had ideas of things to try with clients, and with the kids. I’ve thought about stories I want to write, and people I haven’t talked to for a long time.
I have an hour a day to pray if I’m walking alone. Not praying about anything important. Just visiting. I’ve decided God probably likes a little stroll through the wetlands or the woods now and then, too. So I point things out while we walk.
“Look, there’s a tiny bird with a red face and rose-colored chest. What type of bird do you suppose that is?”
“Listen! The geese are coming back!”
I may look like I’m just out walking. But really? I’m doing a lot more than just walking. I’m slowing the world down. For an hour a day. I figure if someone else can push the world away, I can at least slow it down.
penniesonmypath 