Deceleration

Walking beside my toddler is a poignant foil to the hurried pace (or should I say, race?) of a typical mom these days.  

My daughter has been walking for a little over two months, and let me tell you: there is no better way to slow the pace of life than to amble alongside a toddler.  Lately, doing just that has me pondering the speed at which I often rush through a day.  In the midst of contemplation, I find myself adjusting my tempo as she toddles along beside me.  We stop and squat at random intervals, examining bugs on the sidewalk, interesting plant life and ordinary looking rocks.  We take the stairs one at a time and sometimes stop completely without warning for unknown reasons, if not to simply catch our balance.  Our course is somewhat random as we forsake the shortest route between two points in favor of following the flight plan of a bird.  Or two.

I have to admit, my first (and perhaps natural) inclination is to sweep her up into my arms and get on with things.  I mean seriously, we walk up and down the same 36 stairs and 50 feet of sidewalk countless times a day as we taxi her older brother and sister around life.  However, just as I feel my blood pressure elevate and my teeth clench with the urge to hurry up I force myself to stop.  And breathe.  And think.  Honestly, who am I that I should unnecessarily rush her through life?  Is my schedule or agenda really that important?  Doesn’t life pass by quickly enough as it is?

And so it happens (as it has with every one of my three children as they began to walk) I’m making the choice to enjoy slowing down.  I do it in defiance of the unavoidable fact that time is rushing at breakneck speed toward an emptier nest.  So I walk…and I stop.  And I wait.  And I breathe.  I smell the hibiscus and plumeria, I take note of the hurried millipede that has her attention.  I marvel at the same rocks, sticks and leaves that she does and stoop in wonder at the creativity of their Maker.

And I slow down.  It has been such a good season.  I know that too quickly it will come to an end and she’ll be running along this same sidewalk and I’ll be trying to catch up.  On that day I don’t want to look back at this stage and wonder what the hurry was all about.  

Certainly I’m determined to finish the race…I’m just not so sure it has to be a sprint.