Oh, I’m so glad I’ve given up “It was such a rush”.
When I was in my twenties, I used to scurry down the halls when I taught high school English, my arms full of books and notes and papers to put in teacher mailboxes, or papers to be sorted from my mailbox. I carried my keys in my mouth. Lord knows why, but I was in such a rush.
I had reasons, many compelling reasons to articulate. I have thirty five students in a class, five classes, fifty minutes per class, and five minutes in between. You do the math. English teacher. Papers to correct, papers to assign. I had three preps which means I had to prepare for three different classes with only one prep break.
Such a rush! Never got that To Do list done. It was the amazing, self replicating To Do list. It never shrank no matter how much I did. It could only grow and taunt me.
Such a rush. So ineffective. I didn’t see where I was going, who I was passing, who I was being or becoming. I lived smack dab inside of Such a Rush.
Then one day, with a determined look on my face and my keyring in my mouth, I had an out of body experience. I felt like I was looking down on myself, like a patient in an operating room, floating over the table and witnessing the surgery from above. I could also see all the walks I had taken down the hall with my keys dangling from my lips, like so much time lapsed photography.
I could see my present and my past, but was this the future I wanted to create for myself? Did I want to be bullied by a “To Do” list I had invented? Did I want to fret and sweat my way past my own precious life? Then I asked myself a Big Question: Is this how I want to live my life? Is this living?”
No. I decided. It is not living, at least not the kind of living I wanted to do. I slowed down, took my keys out of my mouth and strolled, yes, strolled, lah dee dah to the office. I strolled back to my room, chatting with students and teachers along the way, as if I had all the time in the world.
You may not believe this, but I have not hurried again from that day on, unless I was about to miss a plane that is. No hurry scurry for me. No more frantic,mindless keys-in-my-mouth zombie walking through my life. Did this decision to let go of hurrying effect my performance as a teacher? I guess it depends on what kind of performance is being measured. If I were not a better teacher, I was at least a happier one, and that must have made me a better model if nothing else.
I have never scurry/hurried since that day I saw myself with my keys in my mouth hurrying down the hall. Really. People all around me hurry and scurry. I see them. I choose not to join in. They tell me they must hurry, they are in a rush, there is such a rush, life is such a rush. Isn’t it obvious for everyone to see? The need to rush may seem obvious to many people, but it is no longer obvious to me.
Ironic Note: Even though we do not have all the time in the world as none of us gets out of this alive, that moment when I saw my busyness from a new perspective, I have lived as if I have all the time in the world. Pair-o-ducks! Slowing down has speeded up my enjoyment and deep appreciation for every precious moment. Carpe diem anyone?
Ironic Note: Even though we do not have all the time in the world as none of us gets out of this alive, that moment when I saw my busyness from a new perspective, I have lived as if I have all the time in the world. Pair-o-ducks! Slowing down has speeded up my enjoyment and deep appreciation for every precious moment. Carpe diem anyone?