I found $80 today. Laying out on Park Avenue, barely fluttering in the breeze. Never having found anything larger than a lucky penny, I naturally thought that a man with a blinding camera and a mic was about to jump out of the bushes to quiz me about my moral standards. So I asked the only woman on the street if she lost any money, which she hadn’t. I must have stood there for a full three minutes, dumbfounded, wondering what I was supposed to do. The money’s owner must have moved quickly on, no doubt distracted by a vibrating cellphone or hustling to a late appointment. It was only because I was deep in thought, slowly walking with my head down that I saw the bills.
It’s been several weeks of burning the candle at both ends, getting the flu, pushing forward with the job search, working late, then giving the flu to my entire department, volunteering at the barn, taking riding lessons, taking tennis lessons, getting rejected by the New York Times, contacting headhunters, meeting up with my career coach, and getting the flu again. I need about three solid days in my cargo fleece sweatpants, sipping only green tea, watching Parenthood. I imagine the face staring back at me in the mirror is one that looks older than it did last month. I’m almost glad I have had no time to change the lightbulb in the bathroom.
We live in a world where speed and productivity reign. Where we walk into traffic, furiously typing into our smartphones…where we speak into Bluetooths while eating our lunch standing up…where we fastforward commercials, download music in seconds, and shop with a click. This is the speed in which most of us travel. I, for one, could have gotten a badge in Girl Scouts with my multi-tasking abilities. But despite my speedy talents, today, lost in thought, I was thinking about my own lack of progression in my personal life. I don’t feel like I’ve come very far.
Some things have not gone my way this past year, but I can never be accused of being lazy. The change I so desperately need has not occurred yet, but I’m hardly taking it sitting down. I recognize that there is never one right answer, never one right question. I’m the only person who knows what’s right for me.
Michael J. Fox said, “My happiness grows in direct proportion to my acceptance, and in inverse proportion to my expectations.” I have always demanded so much of myself. Too much. I can’t keep up with me.
But there is no doubt that the speed of my life is not synced with the pace of my heart. I’m being prodded with a hot poker to progress faster, and I know that remission is in my best interest. But who knows…maybe I’m the tortoise in this tale…slowly processing, learning, perceiving as I move into a new state of awareness. Regardless of my slowness in healing, we all arrive at the same destination don’t we?
So what if I don’t have it yet. It’s coming. I’m going to get it, embrace it, and not remember a time in which it did not exist. I’m going to ride the Pacific Coast Highway of this journey – and if I feel nauseous about the curves, I’ll slow down and pull over for a bit. The cars behind me can pass.