Lines Between Living

Funny how it feels like time is slowly shifting, but still moving slow.

Not gonna lie at first I thought it was just the season. All that glum, grey cold weather. The seasonal heaviness that was becoming a storm I couldn’t escape. I told myself that if we could finally get some warm sunshine, it would solve everything.

Finally, March arrived. The trip I’d planned with my youngest to the Botanical Garden to kick off the month was a go. Color, warmth, making memories with my little girl. It was gonna be a win-win.

But life had other plans.

Friday night I had a slight cough but I also have asthma, and my body was achy from a long hard work week, so I brushed it off. Saturday arrived with a headache and that same cough still hanging around. I said nope, took a vitamin C, and even went for a run. Had to stop midway. I told myself I just hadn’t run in a bit and the cough wasn’t helping, so I went and got a pedicure instead. At least I’d do something good for myself to set the mood for the fun time ahead.

But once I was done, I felt my body say: are you done?

I’ll admit it, I’m stubborn. I took some cold meds and more fluids and kept the plan alive in my head. I got up early Sunday after doing asthma treatments through the night. That should’ve been my sign right there. Maybe going into the city wasn’t a good idea.

But I mustered on, got dressed, and we headed out only to turn back midway because I got sick on the train.

From there it snowballed into a whole week of missing work. I was that sick.

And I still couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see that my body was trying to tell me to slow down.

That is when we need to stop and listen. Or at least that’s when I need to stop and listen.

You see, I have a lot of things on my plate. I admit I want them all done ASAP. But that’s the thing about life it doesn’t care about your timeline.

Again, we are not in control no matter how much we plan. Sure, sometimes that works. But when it won’t, it won’t.

You can have everything mapped out, color-coded, scheduled down to the hour, and life will still walk in, pull the tablecloth, and watch everything slide. Not to destroy you. Maybe just to remind you that you are not in charge of the pace.

Sometimes the pause is the plan. And your only job is to rest inside it until it’s time to move again.

I’m learning that no matter how carefully I plan, life will always have its own version of events. And maybe that’s okay. One moment at a time is still forward motion.