I Used to Be in Such a Hurry

a harried long-haired person sitting in front of a background of clocks
Image by Pixabay / CC 0

I used to be in such a hurry. All of the time.

I hurried even when I had nothing really going on. Heck, especially when I had nothing going on. In moments that should have been relaxing. At times that I was doing something I enjoyed.

When I was sitting talking with someone, in the conversational lulls, the silences, I was forever listening to some interminable clock ticking and feeling my blood pressure rise in response.

I couldn’t just sit. I couldn’t just be.

It was more important to go, go, go.

Never mind I didn’t know where I was going — another source of anxiety. Speed was of the utmost importance. There was an urgency. A fear of inaction. A sense that I must say or do the exact right thing at the exact right moment — otherwise, everything would fall apart.

You would think that this time when I hurried all the time was when I was most productive. But paradoxically it wasn’t.

That’s because it took an incredible amount of energy to fret that much. To worry. And I was so pressured to act — to do — that I didn’t spend nearly enough time thinking about what I was going to do next.

I didn’t really plan. I was so busy thinking of what I was going to say, or do next, I didn’t take the time to really listen to what other people said to me. And I didn’t take the time to really fully explore and understand a problem before rushing to come up with a solution.

Hurrying meant I actually accomplished less. My relationships back then, too, were way less fulfilling.

I didn’t really get close to other people until I slowed down and took the time to really get to know them.

These days I’m very rarely in a hurry. I basically set up my life that way. Sure, there will always be a few timelines I can’t control. Time-based pressure. But a lot of it is more flexible than I realized. There are frankly a lot of things that I don’t actually need to do. Not doing them frees up so much space. So much breathing room.

And even when time is short, I don’t hurry. I take a deep breath. I focus. But I don’t rush.

Because rushing makes everything take longer.

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Books by Page Turner:

Psychic City, a Psychic State mystery

 

Non-Fiction:

Dealing with Difficult Metamours

A Geek’s Guide to Unicorn Ranching

Poly Land: My Brutally Honest Adventures in Polyamory 

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