Hurry Up, Slow Down

Life is often lived straddling opposites. We learn to appreciate things most when we experience the thing's inverse. Some of these are only 21st century problems. We discover that we most appreciate food when we are truly hungry, we learn that resting is best after hard work and those of us who have hard winters appreciate the summers far more than those who have moderate weather all year round. 

How we experience time also has opposites. Tedious, boring or painful events we want to go fast, yet they go slow. And our most looked forward to moments are over before we know it. Vacations are notable examples that follow this rule. A vacation planned appears like a beacon on the horizon that we steer towards knowing the thought of it will lighten our dreary day. Then, when the day finally arrives to start our most anticipated vacation, we want to reverse time or at least to slow things down considerably so that we can savor every moment. In reality, it seems that the best option in overcoming this perpetual "Hurry Up, Slow Down" teeter totter, is to keep our thoughts in the present moment, no matter what it is we might be doing. 

This past winter in Minnesota, Minnesotans already accustomed to bitter winters wanted to heave themselves somehow into the future, leapfrogging the endless subzero temperatures to get to what we anticipate most in Minnesota: The Thaw. In my optimism of an early spring, I invited friends from Denver to visit at the end of March, certainly an "iffy" time of year when a big snowstorm is still completely plausible. But, as if I had some insight into our weather, the weekend turned out to be perfection. 

The weekend was everything we had hoped for. It was filled with delightful conversation, spectacular food (thanks to my husband who was chef for the weekend) and the perfect weather to enjoy our various activities. On the final day of their visit and in gorgeous weather, we walked around the Walker Arts Center, the Sculpture Garden, Loring Park and even walked into downtown Minneapolis for a bite to eat. At the very end of the visit that day, we parked ourselves at a picnic table in Minnehaha Park to sit and relax. We were beat. It had been a long day, filled with lots to see and lots of ground that we had covered by foot. 

We were so weary that we found ourselves not such good company, instead only yearning for a minute or two to close our eyes. Yet, I found myself watching the clock,  timing our stay at the park perfectly in order to fill the time before I would take them to the airport. According to my watch, we would need to sit and talk for another twenty minutes before I would take them to the airport, which was just a short drive away.  

At last, one of my friend's said, "You know, you can take us to the airport any time." 

It was as if this thought had not occurred to me. It wasn't my responsibility to fill every waking moment of my guest's time up until the time of their departure. But, here with each of us so tired we could barely keep our eyes open, I had not considered what was most practical and perhaps even most enjoyable for each of us at the moment. 

I had returned to the "Hurry up" frame of mind yet again. In hindsight, I wonder if all vacations end this way. We are tired of living out of a suitcase, the kids are getting on our nerves, too much time with siblings or other relatives and we crave alone time once again and yearn to sleep back in our own beds.  

So taking my friend's suggestion, I made our way back out of the winding roads to the airport. We said our final goodbyes and I got home in time to take a nap with my husband and our sweet puppy who takes naps with us before a delightful dinner of left-overs. With that, I was once again in the sweet-spot of living in the moment.