Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on pace.
Go.
Since I can remember, I have set my pace to "full speed ahead". Everything that I do, I do with all of me. I give it all that I have, and then I find some more to give, and I give that too. And when I can't find anymore, I double down and search and search and search and then I just pour more and more out of me.
I do it with how I work, I do it with my workouts, I do it with my work ethic, I do it with our home, I do it with my writing, I do it with our plans, I do it with how I love. Full speed ahead is the only pace I have.
So, when this born 40-year-old finally turned the age she was always meant to be, I'm starting to play with a different pace, a slower one, a quieter one. A pace that allows me to function a bit more, sleep a little harder, and be. Not always do and be doing, but be.
Be with you, be around you, be present, be loving, be me, be happy, be proud, be kind, be kind to me...be.
I don't know what pace it is yet, I don't know what any of it looks or feels like, not yet. I haven't found the right rhythm. I just know I'm tired of always feeling like I'm about to have a heart attack and like "it" can't stop or else all of "it" will come crashing down...whatever "it" is for this week anyway. I'm tired of feeling like I can't stop or else all that I hold will collapse, I'm just not that important.
So, little faces, I'll figure this out with you. I have a few more months of holding on and then we will play with a differently paced mamma. One that has time to look at you the whole time you're telling me a story, the one that knows the names of the kids in your class and takes walks with you and holds on to the pace you have always tried to set for us.
Stop.
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