“We have to go you guys,” I say too often. Too urgently.
I was reminded this week that so much crisis, so much hurry starts in our own minds.
Where do we really have to be? Is a deep breath ever a bad idea?
There are reasons to be on time, of course. There are dentist appointments twice a year. There are weddings.
There are job interviews, but not when you are 7.
But tie-dye parties?
Who could possibly understand a late start more than a fellow mom? A group of fellow moms. Friends. Friends who give each other heaps of grace.
The best sort.
I was reminded too this week of the value of those kinds of friends — the kind who understand my desire to live a slower kind of life — a life filled with flower-smelling and garden-growing, and summer days with little on the agenda.
I am so lucky, and I need to take time to appreciate that.
In our rush, it’s so often the most important things that we forget.
We forget the feelings of a little one who wants to finish her chapter, a slightly bigger one who wants to kick the stone down the path at his very own pace.
Haven’t we chosen a slow life, I ask myself sometimes when it all seems like too much. Haven’t we told the world they have no business making us show up anywhere at 8 a.m., teeth brushed, hair done, socks matching?
And doesn’t it create a divide each time I tell my kids to hurry to some event that they are supposed to be excited about?
Buzzkiller. That’s me.
I don’t want to spend our days rushing, because I don’t want to rush our years.
I don’t want to look back and wonder where the time went; knowing we were on time more often than not, but that I wasn’t patient, I wasn’t understanding — I was too busy forcing my kids out the door.
The thought is heartbreaking to me, really.
This week, I am going to make an effort to slow down with my kids; to show patience; to stop, breath and listen — to look into their eyes and see what they see, because they are smart enough to still look around.
Who am I to worry them with what they could be missing, when they are so busy enjoying each moment for what it is?
Once again, these children are the ones teaching me.
Be here now, they seem to say.
We’ll get there someday.