I have two dogs. A springer spaniel and a golden retriever. And their energy couldn't be more different. One is ever in a hurry, the other even blinks slow.

One gulps, one savors. One worries, the other always seems to know that things always turns out okay.

And I wonder sometimes. Am I a more of a springer or a golden?

 

Because it would be easy to rush through this life, distracted and distraught, only to awaken and realize (or not) how much I have missed.

In a day or a decade or a lifetime.

The perfect light, a fleeting season, or this whole delicious chapter made of baby animals and carefree kids. To hurry through and miss it all.

 

In a world that feels ever in a rush, I choose to go slowly.

I will plant and tend, stitch and mend.

When we are tired we will sleep, when we are rested we will rise.

When we are hungry we will cook and sit and eat. Together.

Intentionally, consciously, slowly.

 

I want to put aside all the hurry and busy and should and move instead with mindful grace, tending to things that matter most.

I want to awaken and feel my life unfolding around me, not simply rushing by.

 

Because we're already at our destination.

 

We won't get there tomorrow or next week or next year.

Our only destination is today.

Perhaps it's time to slow down to savor our arrival.

 

And those countless things that make you believe you're too hurried to savor this delicious now? Set aside those that you can, then pour yourself – slowly, slowly – into those that remain.

All tortoise, no hare.

All here, no there.

 

Because everything we need is today.

And there is no hurry for us to get anywhere else.