Crashing down the hill, arms akimbo, I am sliding headlong toward long days and warm nights. I couldn’t stop the momentum if I wanted to. I am going to land in a heap, limbs twisted and gasping for air, on top of summer at the bottom of this hill. Ready or not, here I come.
Next week is the last week of the leadership program for work, wrapping the program up and freeing up more time and brain space. One final trip to Stanford. Six months gone, in a blur of work and phone calls and winter weather. Relief to be done yet sad to leave the world of higher education, where I could play at being a student again. It has been fun. I’m reminded I’m good at being a student. Too bad it doesn’t pay a living wage.
Closer to home, Brandon is nearing the end of school and final activities are piling up. After the finish line, even more activities impatiently await. Trip to Ireland with his choir, trip to Colorado to visit relatives. Best time of year in Oregon–summer is–and he will happily miss half of it. It’s a shame at the same time it’s fantastic. So many options, so little time.
Summer is coming, ready or not.
We try to measure time, parse it out into usable packets of minutes and hours and days and weeks. We look ahead and think, “After this, after that…” Why do we hurry it along so? We are rushing toward the future at the same rate as time creeps along. Always the same. We can’t change the physics of it.
What can I do to slow it down, speed it up? Because I want to do both, right now. I want to quickly move through some parts to spend longer in others.
I want long summer days with my windows open, the sounds of lawn mowers and wind chimes drifting through. I want to wander the house with bare feet and painted toes. I want dry hiking trails and burrs in my dogs fur. I want my teenager to sleep until noon and laze about the house, getting bored and saying there is nothing to do. I want to put projects off because it’s just too nice outside to do otherwise.
Come on summer, I’m ready.
Terry Owenby says
Kat, you have expertly put into words thoughts I’ve had for years. “We look ahead and think, ‘After this, after that…’ Why do we hurry it along so? We are rushing toward the future …”. At 63 years old, I look back and find it hard to believe. Wasn’t it just yesterday I was 30? My mind is still 30. What’s wrong with the rest of me? I raced through most of my life, definitely rushing towards my future. Well, now my future is here and I wish I could do most of it over again. Hurrying, multi-tasking, running to and fro…it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. Thank you for the thoughtful, well-written article.
Thanks Terry. It’s hard to not be rushing toward the future, I think.