Took a walk in the woods today with Gary and Flannery.
We had a big agenda — lunch, disc golf, hike to a waterfall, dinner, home before dark.
It felt like a lot, too much. But we reminded ourselves, we had nowhere to be. We could go slowly, just be together, have an itinerary but no agenda.
Just like last summer.
Every night, we had a destination, a new city, a new screening.
But during the days, time was slow. We wandered, adventured, were together.
We’ve been home a year now. The lessons linger but have become fuzzy.
It’s so tempting to want to go fast. To rush to the waterfalls. To run up the hill to the next tee. But today, we stopped ourselves. We watched the mama cow nursing her baby. Sat on a log in the middle of the trail in the shade. Searched for lost discs and felt the pine needle breeze. Let ourselves feel the sweat of the sun and rested. We took longer than we needed to. And we still got home early…
Time, the great deceiver, and urgency, its thief.