Think about something that drives you crazy. Now, think about something that makes you happy. Does it change your perspective on the former?
Why is it that with every day the prompts get more complex? Or maybe I’m just feeling the stress of writing everyday.
What makes me crazy?
That is a no-brainer. What drives me crazy is lack of punctuality.
I am a compulsive time-checker (is there such a word?) Honestly, my smartphone is more like a watch than an actual phone/ Internet-enabled device.
As a teacher, I have given my students a hard time when they have turned up late for classes, by even 5 or 10 minutes. I can’t stand it when people stroll in halfway through a meeting, interrupting the flow of conversation. I tap my foot impatiently, hand on hip and glare in my eye, when waiting for the family to leave for an event. It’s a lifelong habit of mine and I just cannot get out of it.
So, you can picture my utter astonishment when I mothered the most laid-back soul on the planet. Gy loves to linger. There really is no better word to describe it.
She will stop and pause at a beetle on the pathway and coax me to admire it as well.
She chooses to sit and twist the pasta in her bowl, because she loves the cheesy taste and wants to savour every bite.
She will button up her shirt, very slowly, since she is also busy talking to her reflection in the mirror at the same time and cannot be expected to rudely cut short the conversation!
What makes me happy?
Learning to relax on the time concept has not been easy. But, Gy has helped me do that in her own way.
I watch as she lovingly sits by our flowering plant and talks to it for a long time.
Watching her chatter away at herself makes me pause and think about how I have stopped conversing with the inner me.
There are way too many things in this world, ready to overwhelm us with their magnitude. On the one hand we have deadlines at work, piles of laundry, cleaning up around the house and rushing to pay bills. On the other we have prepping the kid for school, ferrying her to various classes, sitting with her homework and planning for her lunchboxes.
In the midst of all the madness and mayhem, the languid calm of a child admiring a spiny caterpillar is a soothing balm to the hourglass obsession that consumes me.
This post is my contribution to