Slow down, you move too fast by Kerissa Taylor
Slow down, you move too fast. Got to make the feeling last!...
These words from Simon and Garfunkle swam through my mind as I lay next to my 18 month old daughter while putting her to bed for the night. Her little chubby hand caressed the skin on my neck, soft fingertips with the occasional scratch from her too long fingernails she never lets me clip. I am in a trance like state listening to the whisper of her breath and I tell myself to “make the feeling last!”
How do you hold on to memories? How do you engrave experiences in your mind so that when you revisit them you can feel, smell, and see it the same over and over?
Each day we move through life most often oblivious to the treasures around us. We wake dreading the hustle of the morning of getting everything and everyone ready for the chaos of the day.
“ Grab your coat! Eat breakfast! Hurry up! We have to leave! Where's your shoes?!...” Any of those sound familiar? We move and act according to what we need to be getting to, what needs to be done. All those things that pertain to the future. But what about right now? Are we soaking it in and giving it's due credit? After all what happens right now creates our future, so wouldn't it be good to be aware of what is going on?
I am reading a wonderful book by author Nicholeen Peck. It is titled, Parenting:A House United. First of all, the title is inspiring, it evokes much thought, and is a great conversational piece. Open the pages and I am finding answers to many of my parenting qualms and questions. One that has hit me the most is recognizing that I have suffered from what is called the Urgency/Rush disease. Always in a hurry. That is a phrase my children could add to my headstone and biography. “Mom was always in a hurry, rushing us along, to where and for what we'll never know.”
Is the future really that much better then what we have right now, right in front of us? We must remember that our present was once our future, so isn't it worth taking a breath and finding it's treasures before the moment is gone?
I look at the face of my daughter long gone into the world of dreams. Sweet silence spread across her face lightly touched with stickiness from the days adventures, brown hair tangles and tousled. At this point I would normally lay her down, but not this time. This time I kiss her cheek and rock her a little longer.