What’s the Rush?

Why are we often hurrying from one place to another, from one experience to another? Where are we going, really? Your life span and the ultimate finish line (what we think of as death) will remain exactly the same no matter how fast you go. There is so much more at play here, like an entire universe. You and I perceive ourselves moving through time, but time is only a human-created concept. It’s as if we are on a treadmill at the gym watching a TV screen that shows scene after scene of unfolding events, some mesmerizing, some boring, some happy, some sad. We think we are moving with the events, but we are actually running in place. We believe we are participants with choice and control, but we are observers at the soul level. And we have a larger destiny within Spirit.

This is life, and there is no hurry about any of it. Our souls came to Earth for the experience. God experiences human life through us, and we experience God through human life. We are colorful pieces of glass in a giant divine kaleidoscope of light and sound. Magical, beautiful, fathomless. No reason to speed up or slow down. It’s all unfolding with absolute synchronicity, beyond your ability to make adjustments to what is occurring…or to pinpoint a destination. If you relax and let go, you experience each moment without any need to either rush it or make it last. It is perfect just as is.

Labyrinths, which wind circularly from a beginning point towards a center and then back out again to the start, have been viewed historically as life paths that people symbolically walk for insight and awareness. From one’s Source back again to one’s Source. Or Spirit taking form, journeying through life, and then returning to Spirit once more. I have walked several labyrinths in different locations, and there is definitely a deeper sense of moving and yet remaining in one place. The beginning is the same as the end. That is, birth is the same as death. We travel in time while remaining timeless. We are both finite and infinite. Mortal yet eternal.

Difficult to describe what is essentially beyond description. This is the landscape within which I continually find myself these days. I am moving while standing still. And trying to find language for the indescribable motionless motion of my life, of all of our lives. Poets and songwriters come the closest to capturing the feeling. In the musical flow of poetry and song, listeners often experience moments of touching the intangible, inhaling the transcendent.

It is also possible in the simplicity of daily life, through slow, conscious breathing. With each breath, you and I encounter God in all we see as well as in each other. If we are in no hurry, we can meet within the timeless. Rushing, we miss each other…and everything else. In one single moment is life, death, and eternity. Pause, breathe, and that awareness opens up inside you and all around you.

Timeless Slow Motion

The experience of calendar- and clock-oriented time has seemed to fade and often dissolve completely over the past two to three years of radical changes in the world. I find that many people I know comment on how they often have no idea what day or month it is until they stop and think about it. Life has given us the opportunity to live the ancient wisdom of present-moment awareness in which time does not exist. Now is timeless. There is only Presence. It may be hard to get used to at first, but gradually there is a letting go into a greater sense of being alive, one that is not constrained by human parameters or mental constructions that explain the world. Being alive and being aware of life is all there is.

In 2018 I moved from Massachusetts to Florida; in 2020 I moved back. Within that span of time, a pandemic brought the world to a standstill. Busy-ness of all kinds subsided. My own life became mainly morning meditation, yoga, writing, and daily walks on a nature trail outside my door. Most other things fell away. In 2021­–2022, as I lived through a breast cancer diagnosis and treatment, even my past identity began to dissolve. I let go completely into appreciating each second of my life. Today, as people try to get back their pre-pandemic lives and return to “normal” activities, I find myself reluctant to become “busy” again. My entire being wants to move in slow motion and be fully present with a minimum of activities, such as writing or walking in Nature. I am most at peace then.

There is no time in Nature. When I walk quietly among the trees, listening to the call of the wood thrush or cardinal, I do not count the minutes and keep track of how much time has passed. I am fully in the moment and nothing else exists. The color of the sky and the movement of the clouds engage my heart and soul. I frequently stop and just stare at the beauty around me. A flower, butterfly, or bee is a tiny miracle; if I walk swiftly, I miss them entirely. “Slow” is a gift; “timeless” is a gift. I am grateful for all that happened in my life that brought me to this space of just plain “being.”

Major events, whether personal (like cancer) or global (like COVID), shatter reality and give us the opportunity to see the world and ourselves with fresh eyes and no past frameworks. If we remain in this open space without refilling it with previous mindsets that keep us spinning in place, then limitless possibilities open up all around us. The most powerful of which is just to see the world each morning with clear vision and no preconceptions.

Allow the present to move you; don’t try to control it or force it along a particular mental path. When you accept each moment as it arises, your soul can guide you in living a life that peacefully flows and flowers, even in the midst of illness or extreme changes in the external world. Indeed, maybe this is why crisis comes to humans—to teach them fluidity and gratitude. Perhaps our souls chose these particular lifetimes on Planet Earth to help humanity evolve into full conscious awareness of timeless presence and connection to something greater in the universe. Slow down, smile, and watch time disappear.