Sunday, April 17, 2011
Take it slow now and again.
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.
Do you remember this Simon and Garfunkel song? It is actually called "The 59th Street Bridge Song" (Feelin' Groovy). It was released around 1966. When I was 6. When I took things slow. When an afternoon felt like an eternity.
I was not thinking about this as I went for a walk with my daughter this evening. As we were walking, I thought instead about all the things I wanted to do this week, before I had to work again on Thursday. You know, that perpetual to-do list in our heads.
We had been talking and then I was silent, thinking about all those errands, all those to-dos. My daughter suddenly turned to me and said, "Why aren't you talking anymore?" We had been enjoying a nice walk on a beautiful evening and I was suddenly far away, far ahead of today.
And then that song popped into my head.
We do indeed move too fast. Always trying to stay on top of things. Getting things done. Planning. Thinking about tomorrow or next week or next year. Living in tomorrowland and ignoring what matters today.
"You are right," I told her. And I returned to now and we talked about nothing in particular and we had a lovely walk.
You have to know that these spontaneous times are the ones that our kids remember. I cannot tell you all the adult children I see at the bedside of a dying parent that say to me, "I wish I had spent more time with mom. But she was always so busy."
I don't want my child to be that adult.
And I don't want to be that mom.
So, some may view it as wasting time, just hanging out and doing nothing. I may become known as a slacker. I don't really care. I know that I have a lot to do. And I probably won't get it all done anyway. And my basement may stay a mess and the clothes will pile up and my car may be dirty, and even a bill ot two may be late. But I will try to slow down and think like I did when I was 6 or 8 or even 15.
Like today was the only day that mattered.
Because it really is true.
Life is short, God's way of encouraging a bit of focus.
Why always "not yet"? Do flowers in spring say "not yet"?
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.
Why must conversions always come so late? Why do people always apologize to corpses?