A couple of months ago I was sitting on the shore of Lake Michigan watching the waves and fully appreciating the moment and my mind drifted back......
More than 20 years ago I was a nanny to a 3 year old boy. Like most 3 year-olds, Scott was incredibly inquisitive and everything about life was a new adventure to be explored. Not only did Scott like to ask questions every 2.3 seconds, but he loved to announce loudly the wonders he was beholding throughout the day. One day I was driving him through the countryside toward my home and he was excitedly watching the scenery rush by. "A cow! I see a cow!" his cute little voice called from the back seat. "A barn, a red house, a green tractor....I see a horse! I see a tree...another tree...another tree....car...tree...cow....." About this time I was thinking I couldn't wait until we got home so that this chorus would end when with two little chubby fists he slapped the front of his car seat and exclaimed loudly, "Slow Down! We're missing things!". For some reason those words went straight to my heart and I did slow down. And we not only took an extra 20 minutes on the ride but we rolled the windows down so we could feel the wind on our cheeks and smell the grain fields and then pine forests as we continued on. Additionally I really slowed down for the whole afternoon and I still remember what his eyes looked like when they locked with mine as he placed his palms on my cheeks and leaned his forehead against mine. I remember the magical sound of his giggles and the feel of his little hand in mine as we explored the same sidewalk I had been on thousands of times but this time saw the newly constructed anthill starting in the cracks - only through toddler eyes.
Its been more than 20 years and countless times in my life I have found that phrase replaying in my mind. Slow down, we're missing things. Sometimes its in the voice of my children, my students, or my friends pleading for me to slow down and wait. This week it was justfor me. I still need to slow down, maybe more now than ever. Because I have found a beautiful truth in slowing down. When we slow down and truly use all of our senses we become fully engaged in the present moment, and this unlocks us from the guilt of yesterday and the worries of tomorrow. Both of these rob us of precious time - the now in our life. So whatever you are doing right now, stop for a moment. Seriously, put your phone down and breathe.
What do you hear? Listen more closely. The quiet buzz of appliances can remind us of the blessings of modern conveniences. (Even if sometimes those blessings also cost us a fortune!) Or perhaps you can hear your pet or children or companion moving about the house. Maybe you hear crying or street noises or snoring. Maybe you hear birds or frogs or bees buzzing. Maybe you are at ball practice and hearing the sound of the ball slapping the leather. Or a piano playing. Maybe you hear the radio and your foot is tapping along. Listen closely and let those sounds draw you into the now.
What do you smell? Fresh cut grass? Someone needing a diaper change? Dinner simmering on the stove? The first bite in a juicy apple? The smell of paint on your palette? That mysterious something died somewhere near the kitchen and I haven't found the source yet? It doesn't matter if it is a good smell or bad. Breath it in. What does it call you to do? Are you needed right here right now? Let it pull you into the present.
What do you see? Choose something near you and look at the color. What would you call it? Can you find signs of beauty? A little weed poking up through the concrete? Sunlight filtering through a window? Said window does not have to be clean! A person you care about? This moment is your gift. Find the beauty in it right now.
What do you taste? Are you eating something? Slow down and taste it. Do you even like it? Let the chocolate melt in your mouth and appreciate it. Take smaller bites and experience your meals. You will find yourself more fully enjoying your company as well.
Touch is so important. How do you need your touch? Breathe slowly and watch your chest rise and fall. Gently rub your hands or hold hands with someone near you. What does the surface you are sitting on feel like? Run the blades of grass through your hands. Feel the worn and rough fabric of the upholstery. Acknowledge the cold hardness of your molded subway seat. Are your hands pruny from the warm sudsy dishwater or aching from typing at your desk? Do you have tears slipping from your eyes? Or pain when you move your swollen fingers? Just use your surroundings to wake yourself up to an awareness that you are present and alive at this very moment where you are.
What I have found is that this truly works miracles. Not every time, I'm certainly not perfect, but it does allow me to escape my guilts and worries and be more present. And as a result I am a better mother, friend, coworker, wife and individual. I am kinder to myself and I am more able to notice the needs of others and see how I can help. I am better able to recognize my own needs and make kinder choices to myself. I am able to see beauty and patterns in places I didn't dream it could be possible and to focus on the "do" in my "to dos" even if I don't cross off as many items. I notice smiles of others and catch the laughter of my children and they get to see my smile too. The other thing that happens is patience increases. When we slow down we acknowledge that there is time for imperfection and imperfection is how we all learn. How beautiful is that? Because you know what? We don't get these moments back. And our worries will always be waiting. So whoever you are and whatever you are doing right now, SLOW DOWN, WE'RE MISSING THINGS.
Breathing emergencies are among the most helpless, difficult moments for us as parents. Nothing is as hard as wanting to literally give your child your own air and being completely powerless to do it. Like so many parts of parenting, its simply out of our hands. So when I went to her first cross-country race this year I was filled with trepidation. Could she complete it? Would we have to call for help or carry her off the course? Were we right to encourage her to do this? I knew she wouldn't place well but would that matter to her? She was crossing into uncharted territory. We encouraged her to go out for the team because we want her to try new, hard things, but somehow watching her fight her way through that first race I found myself fighting my own emotional battle on the sidelines. I fought back tears and held my own breath, watching the physical struggle unfold on her face. No matter how many racers were ahead of her I knew that every yard and every breath were a victory. With each pounding step I felt the shackles of what she couldn't do being broken. Other racers began to funnel through the chute and I waited. They became fewer and farther between and still I waited. Fear began to creep into my heart and then suddenly there she was rounding the last bend with a heaving chest and fierce determination. And I knew with every tear sliding down my cheek that you don't have to be first to be a winner. Because as she crossed that finish line her 55th place was definitely a win - and it was one that took this Mama's breath away! 
