So today was one of those days.
After several months of screaming through wedding stuff, new jobs, puppy training, friendship debacles, and a whole lot of other stuff – I finally gave up. Caved. Imploded. Melted down. Whatever you want to call it. My brain was literally going on strike by putting on a massive headache and my body decided to chuck some sick my way just to make sure I got the message loud and clear. Everything was screaming one thing.
Slow. The. Heck. Down.
Of course, me being me. I’m quite lousy at slowing down. But when forced to, you really start noticing just how fast the world is careening past you out of control. Everyone is in a rush to nowhere. Everyone has to be better than everyone else. Everyone has to have the last say. We don’t really know why, but for some reason we have come to believe that all that is what makes our world go round. Rushing, competition, and selfishness. Blah.
So, I spent the day being the slow one. I made Rob promise me he would not let me talk about work, dogs, roommates, friends, the house, or anything that would get me into a hyper frantic frenzy. We decided that some fresh mountain air would probably help – and we went. Without a plan and without a schedule. We simply meandered. (Of course we also nearly got run off the road by a minivan, further re-enforcing my slow-the-heck-down feelings.)
At one of our random stops today, we spent a little time rock hopping on the Swift River. If the universe was trying to give me a figurative “yield” sign to tell me to slow down, it gave it to me in the form of some very random rocks. Someone had spent the time to balance five rocks in insanely precarious positions – a time consuming task with much trial and error. I don’t know who did it, but I’d like to meet them. Whoever it was had mastered the concept of being in the moment and sharing with others without any return or reward. Such a tiny and little detail that so many others would overlook, but random-rock-balancer – I got it. Thanks.