Why is it that we feel the need to move so fast? I think, speaking only for myself, it is due to years of this learned behavior. It began with my mother, who was a bit of a perfectionist. Dust bunnies hopped away in terror. Dishes didn't dare sit dirty in the sink for more than 10 minutes after a meal. We washed clothes on Monday and ironed them on Tuesday, etc., etc., etc. I remember watching my Dad mow the lawn at the farm, on nearly a dead run behind the lawn mower.
I understand the need to keep my living space free from dirt. I mostly do that. But I find myself rushing about to get things done. I don't know why I do this when I now have all the time in the world to get things done. The dust bunny police are not going to knock on my door. I answer to nobody but myself. So why, in the name of good common sense, should I rush about like a chicken with no head! There is no good reason that I can think of.
We live in a fast-paced world. It seems to me that so many people try to cram so many things into one 24-hour day. I did the same when I was still in the work force. I still have trouble slowing down, and if per chance I take a day and do nothing, I blog about it, because it is so unusual. That's kind of sad.
I believe that the world would be a much better place if we had more rocking chairs on more front porches, and if we used them. To sit. And rock. And cuddle with a kid. And remember the good things. And hum a long remembered song. And sip a good cup of coffee or glass of homemade tangy lemonade. And watch the world go by. And take time out of busy lives to smell a few roses. And enjoy a sunset.
I think my rocking chair is calling my name.
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