The day I stopped saying “Hurry up!” (hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry – choose what usually you say:))
When you live a crazy life, every minute must be in the account. You feel like needs to check something from the list, stare at screen, or rush to the next scheduled location. And no matter how I tried to distribute my time and attention, and how much various tasks or trying to solve — I don't have enough time to do everything.
This was my life for two dozen years. My thoughts and actions were controlled by electronic notifications, ring tones, and filled to overflowing schedule. And although every fiber of my soul, the inner controller would like to find time for all the cases in my overloaded terms, that did not work.
It so happened that six years ago I was blessed calm, carefree, stop-and-smell-the rose child.
When I had to leave, she enjoyed finding a shiny crown in my bag.
When I needed to be somewhere five minutes ago, she wanted to fasten her toy animal to the seat of the car.
When I needed a quick bite to eat at Subway, she couldn't stop talking with an elderly woman like her grandmother.
When I have thirty minutes to run somewhere, she asked me to stop the stroller to pet every dog, by which we passed.
When I had fully painted the day starting from 6 in the morning, she asked me to break the eggs to mix them very slowly and carefully.
My carefree child was a gift to my Type A, but I didn't notice it. Oh no, when you live a crazy life, you have tunnel vision, only anticipating what comes next on the agenda. And all that is impossible to put a tick in the schedule, it was a waste of time.
Whenever my child caused me to deviate from the schedule, I was thinking to myself: “we Have no time for it”. Hence, the two words I most commonly spoke to my little lover of life were: “Come quickly.”
I started with them.
Hurry, we're late.
And ended offers them.
We all miss, if you don't hurry.
I started my day with them.
Hurry up and eat your Breakfast.
Hurry up and get dressed.
I finished their day with them.
Quickly brush your teeth.
Quickly go to bed.
And although the words “hurry” and “hurry up”, they have done little, if anything, to speed my baby, I said them anyway. Perhaps even more often than the words “I love you.”
Yes, the truth hurts but the truth heals... and brings me to such a parent, what I want to be.
Then, one fateful day, everything changed. We just took my oldest daughter out of kindergarten and out of the car. This was not as fast as she wanted, and she said to her little sister: “you're slow!”. And when she crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh, I saw it myself and it caused me emotional pain.
I was chasing, pushing, pressing and Taropak small child, rotarydial wanted to enjoy life.
I saw the light and saw clearly how harmful my hurried existence both of my kids.
Although my voice trembled, I looked into the eyes of my baby and said, “I'm so sorry that I make you hurry. I like that you're not in a hurry, and I want to be more like you.”
Both my daughters looked equally surprised by my painful confession, but the face of the youngest doubtless lit up with a glow of approval and acceptance.
“I promise to be more patient,” I said and hugged her girl-with-curly-hair, which now shone with the promise of her mother.
To banish from my vocabulary the word “hurry” was pretty easy. But what was really hard is to be patient, to wait for my leisurely child. To help us both I began giving her a little more time to prepare when we had to go somewhere. But sometimes, despite this, we still were late. Then, I convinced myself that I would be late, just these few years while it is still small.
When my daughter walked or went to the store, I let her set the pace. And when she stopped to admire something, I banished thoughts of my plans out of my head and just watched her. I have noticed such expressions on her face I had never seen before. I studied the spots on her arms and how her eyes had narrowed his eyes while smiling. I saw how other people respond to her when she stops to talk to them. I saw how she studied the interesting bugs and pretty flowers. She was a Noticer*(spectator), and I quickly realized that The Noticers* the world's rare and wonderful gifts. That's when I finally understood — she was a gift to my frenzied soul.
I made a promise to slow down almost three years ago. And still to live in slow motion, I have to make considerable efforts. But my youngest daughter is a living reminder of why I should keep trying. And indeed, another time, she reminded me about it again.
During the holidays we went together for a bike ride to the tent with fruit ice. After buying treats my daughter sat at a picnic table delightedly admiring the icy tower she had had in her hand. Suddenly, I saw the concern on her face. “I must hurry, mother?”
I could cry. Perhaps the scars of a hasty life never disappear completely, sadly I thought.
When my child looked at me, trying to figure out if you need her right now to hurry, I knew I had a choice. I could sit and be sad thinking about how many times in my life, I customized it... or I could celebrate the fact that today I try to do differently.
I decided to live in today.
“Careful, sweetheart. Just don't hurry,” I said softly. Her face instantly brightened, and shoulders relaxed.
And so we sat side by side, talking about things, which they say play-on-Hawaiian-guitar-6-year-old children. There were even moments when we sat in silence, just smiling at each other, admiring the natural surroundings and the sounds around us.
I thought my child was going to eat every last drop, but when she got almost to the end, she handed me a spoonful of ice crystals from the sweet juice. “I saved the last spoonful for you, mom,” said my daughter with pride.
When I let the icicles kindness to quench my thirst, I realized that I just made the deal of a lifetime.
I gave my child a little time... and in return, she gave me his last spoonful and said that the taste becomes sweeter and love comes easier when you stop rushing through life.
And now, whether it's ...
...eating fruit ice;
...fastening the seat belt;
...the cracking of the eggs;
...search for sea shells;
...looking at ladybirds;
...or just walk...
I won't say: “we Have no time for this!”. Because, essentially, it means: “we Have no time to Live.”
Stop to enjoy the simple pleasures of everyday life is the only way to truly live.
(Trust me, I learned this from the world's leading experts on the joy of life.) published
Author: Rachel Macy Stafford