the remedy for a hurried life

a non-exhaustive list

Bury your face in the freshly laundered towels. Absorb the warmth into your skin. Breathe deeply the vanilla bean and lavender aroma, the one your children will carry with them in their memories.

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Rise with the sun, or, close the curtains and forget that clocks exist. Blur the lines of your schedule and dance with the rhythms of the day. When it tick-tick-ticks past bedtime, let the kids lounge in that cozy corner of the couch just a little while longer, limbs layered and looped around each other. They won't fit in that spot forever.

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Pour yourself a steaming cup of tea, but don’t use the travel tumbler. Choose the special cup, the fragile one you tucked away for special occasions. (Today is a special occasion.) Watch the steam wind and waft; see the tea steep streaks through the clear water. Take a sip. Slowly savor.

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Sometimes, you will have somewhere to be (an appointment, a lunch date, a meeting, a service), but instead of being there, you are here. Your heart will pound as you race around, gathering your things, your sweat glands releasing your anxiety. It is in this moment that I want you to pause, yes, pause, as in halt, cease, stop moving. Regulate your breathing—smell the flowers, blow out the candles. Recognize this truth: life throws at us few emergencies; this is not one of them. Gather your composure. Let calm seep through your veins and relax your muscles. Yes, you are here, but yes...you are here.

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Do you ever stand in the shower ‘til the water runs cold? Soak in the bath ‘til your fingers prune? Cleanse your body, clear your mind. The only fog welcome is what clouds your bathroom mirror. Cares swirl and circle the drain--going, going, gone.

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Open a book, yes, the kind with a spine you must bend, with a cover you must open, with pages you must turn. I know you like your audiobooks. Sure, the narrators are great, and you finally have more credits. But must you always multitask? Sit and feel the weight of words in your hands. Immerse yourself in a fiction that feels real, or a reality you want more of. Let your eyes track the words; risk a papercut from pages turned quickly in anticipation. What can wait while you sit and read? Surely it will still be there.

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The next time you're in the check out line, tempted to get the plant on the shelf, the one that's already growing, already flourishing, the one where someone else has already done the hard work, choose instead to buy some seeds. Go home and sink your fingers into rich, brown soil. Sprinkle in those tiny pieces of stored potential; spritz water on those hopes. Wonder, watch, wait. Then, suddenly, marvel at the growth—so much nothing, and then so much at once! As your plant pushes upward to the glowing sun, you, too, are growing in patient endurance, towards the Son.

See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains? You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. —James 5:7b-8