Remember

I came home to an empty house. 

This has not happened in almost six months.

One is at work and one is at school and one is at practice.

For the moment, I am alone.

Tomorrow, I go back to work.

Tomorrow, an outside schedule begins to shape our lives again.

Tomorrow, things will start to feel like “normal” again.

Things may even look a little bit like “normal” again.

I am eager to return to work.

And anxious.

I am not eager to return to the kind of life I had.

Packed from beginning hours to end with busy.

Run here, go there, drop off this, pick up that.

I have not missed the hurried life.

I do not wish to forget the unhurried one.

In March, we were forced to slow down.

Stop.

Stay put.

Cease.

We did it for our own good.

And the good of others.

Six months have passed.

And we are tired of these “rules.”

We are eager to get our lives back.

In a rush to return to the way things were.

But what if we chose to slow down?

To keep slowing down?

To sometimes stay put.

For the good of ourselves. And of others.

When we stopped moving, the world did not stop spinning.

Perhaps we realized 

we are not the ones who make it spin after all.

Maybe we don’t like how that sounds.

I can already feel it in myself,

the temptation to rush.

To stress.

To return to the life of the busy.

A life whose calendar is full

but whose purpose is often less so.

I can feel the tug of the hurried life,

beckoning me to come back.

So, today, on the eve of my return,

I’m trying to remember

the mornings that started slow,

with coffee, a book, sleeping in.

The evenings that ended with a walk through the neighborhood.

The Wednesdays in the woods where we breathed the unhurried air.

The time we’ve spent as a foursome, even the times that have not been bliss.

The notes and cards and texts from friends, checking in for no reason.

Remember.

Some things are chosen for us.

Some things we get to choose.

Let us be ones who choose wisely.