waiting for life to start

i find myself at times, like this morning, waiting for my life to start.  i feel restless and fitful at the idea of sitting still.  my minds rushes forward, while my body stays still in the steady moments of day.  i begin to criticize myself for missing out on the details–a beautiful sunrise, the intense blue of the sky, the wind running over my outstretched hand–but i don’t care.  i can’t stay present.

as my dear Kyle intimated last night, “i fill my days because it makes me feel productive.”  in this American landscape, it’s a fight to do otherwise.  and so, in this morning of slowness, when i don’t have much on my plate at work and not much of an agenda for the day (until i get home…then things don’t stop), i am struggling to appreciate the slow moments.

as a borderline intro/extrovert, i recognize my need for said slow moments to rejuvenate and reenergize.  but that doesn’t mean i have to like them.  like a petulent child, i reserve the right to stop my feet and cross my arms across my chest in protest.

that being said, i long for the perspective that life is always in progress.  that these times are just as much a vital part of my life as the “high” moments.  i have many things to look forward to over the coming months, but i don’t want to lose focus of what i have here now.


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