Hurry Up and Slow Down

I’m in no rush to get off the telephone, unless I have an appointment with a doctor or plans for lunch, and that happens 2 or 3 times a week, so I forget that for most of the world, the ring a ding or buzz or whatever sound is their interrupter- because that is what most phone calls are – I forget because I do not have an interrupter, I have a connector. That beautiful sound which floats into my ears means that I will have a conversation and how nice that is.

Some one is going to connect with me and if I am lucky and have been intermittently napping in front of the TV, I will interact with another person. We will exchange ideas, thoughts or maybe just gossip and I will again appreciate how the spoken word fills up space so deliciously. Oh I’m so delighted I do not text! That’s because I refused to learn to type when I was young, since proper young ladies learned to type so that they could – if all else failed – become someone’s secretary, and type and bring the morning coffee. I did not want to do any of those things and did not add typing to my skills. I could tell my younger friends that texting means they are typists, using a rather short handed form of the alphabet, but typing, none the less. Of course they run circles around me at the computer and the cell phone, but it’s nice to know some of the old time skills are still around.

But back to the phone and its connections. Sometimes, I hear in the voice at the other end, a soupcon of impatience that is telling me my time is up or rather their time is up, and we have to cut the cord. There is no cord, but we have to cut something, and I am reminded of a doctor who stands at the door with his hand on the knob at the end of our session, another example of hurry up and slow down and you know which is which.

I watch people at the elevator, ire rising as the elevator does not and I wonder at their impatience. We who are growing older disgracefully, have learned that time is a commodity we have in abundance, and yet we are greedy at having to spend it. If truth be told, I am hardly ever in a rush. There are chores I must do daily – eye drops,pills, feed my dog and my fish – but then, extravagantly, I can spread my minutes wherever I wish. How decadent I have become. Thinking and day dreaming, what luxuries they are! People chafe at getting old and make negative comments, but we know the good stuff.

All my life I was in a hurry. Time was in a short supply. But now, I’ll put on my music or watch a DVD and I’ve forgotten how it feels to be in a hurry. I’m too busy slowing down, slowing down, slowing down. Oh, it feels so good. Wish you had more time?

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