Over the past month, a couple of people have asked if I had written on my blog recently. It's ironic, really, how time has a way of getting away from us, of speeding up, with no sign of slowing down. I've noticed that when time moves quickly, as it seems to do when we age, we come to points in our lives when we are challenged to catch up to it. One day, I'm 20 and the next, I'm nearing my 30's. One way that has personally worked for me in the area of pausing, is to intentionally reflect on life through activities that bring me joy.
Within the past week, I returned from a bus trip to Canada. I forgot how long a ride in a tour bus could be. After hour # 2, I had recollections of my college days, where I travelled to New Orleans, Louisiana for 2 spring breaks to where I worked with a team from Habitat for Humanity and the St. Bernard's Project to rebuild houses from Hurricane Katrina. A piece of my heart was left in New Orleans, as that famous song is noted for saying, and I hope to be back again one day. I seek to return to the areas I loved the most and those where I developed the strongest connection: The Lower Ninth Ward, Blair Grocery. The French Quarter was a nighttime favorite, listening to the strain of jazz music by favorites such as Louis Armstrong - with the hurt and passion of the years following Katrina, spill out of clubs in perfect harmony through the haunting sounds of my favorite instrument section of all: the brass beauties. The lingering sounds and melody of trumpets, trombones, cornets, etc. swirl in and out of the bars and restaurants as I walk on cobblestone road, living in a time and an age so different from my own, yet in a way, eerily similar.
On my bus trip, I was reminded again of how much I love books, of the pleasure of reading, of being satisfied with traveling to different worlds through the turning of a page with my fingertips. As time sped up and slowed in between traffic through the vast and breathtaking mountains of Maine, the time change was evident outside my window through the position of the sun, I realized that I need to take time to enjoy life, not just the occasional moose and deer that navigated in and out of the trees as our climb up the mountains ensued. I feel that during the hot, dog-days of summer, I am much more open to unstructured times of learning about myself, of growth and maturity, and of investing in my life and those around me. However, this same mindset needs to be applied throughout the school year as well and I need to be more mindful of replacing obvious open pockets of time with hobbies and activities (such as reading, writing, and painting) that I enjoy rather than staring at my phone through social media.
One of my goals this summer is to make more of a personal effort to do these things and engage with people that share different mindsets and outlooks on life than I do, in order to learn more about my world that I inhabit everyday.
You see, as I get older, I realize and understand that life is not a race. It is not about speeding up and slowing down in a bus on a highway, just brazenly passing in and out of exits and the on-and off ramps of life. It is not merely stopping the bus to view a "sight" or a "historical monument" and then continuing on our journey. Instead, it is getting lost in the moment, learning from others, having wisdom to refrain from the teaching and allowing myself to "be taught." Following a path where the destination may be foggy or unclear needs to be my prerogative rather than always the clear and certain path. Because, it is during those unplanned road trips, that the greatest learning ever takes place: the one inside of you.
