Slow Travel

I don't know why I never noticed certain things before. Take pink ribbons for example. They are simply the product of thin clouds and early morning sunrises, not exactly a new phenomenon. They existed long before I even made it onto the scene, yet, sadly, I have no conscious recollection of them before just a few years ago.

Did I have my head in the sand or was I just preoccupied, putting my hand to the plow with the business side of life? Who knows? Those were awfully busy years! We seemed to move at warp speed through the phases of having babies, raising them, homeschooling, prepping for college, attending graduations, grieving losses, and planning weddings. Truthfully, at times it was all kind of a blur.

I wonder why we don't give ourselves permission to travel a little slower through life. I'm not so sure anymore that the destinations are always the primary goal, that we must keep the head down and trudge on relentlessly in pursuit of the ends. Perhaps the primary goal is the journey itself. After all, the journey is where lessons are taught and wisdom is cultivated.

It makes me think about so many things I rushed through in my younger years. There always seemed to be something that drove me a little faster, a little harder, all the while leaving things of beauty lying unnoticed on the side of the road.

Naivete during my school years led me to believe that the "A" on the report card was the ultimate goal. In reality, broadening my worldview and expanding my understanding of and appreciation for the wonder and workings of this beautiful, God-orchestrated Creation was education's true purpose. I could have enjoyed the process a whole lot more if I would have realized that sooner.

I wish I had taken more time to simply rock my babies, to play games, to log their laughter... tuck away their hugs and kisses. We did all those things, but we could have done more. When it's all said and done, there is only one childhood, only one, sweet innocence to enjoy. It goes so fast. I was concerned with giving them tools, and feeling the weight of either my success or my failure made me a bit too single-minded. I probably pushed them a lot more than I needed to, and it would have done me a world of good to remember that God was the one driving that boat, not me.

The journey is really what it's all about... HOW we get from point A to B... what we do in the span between the two. Those small, seemingly insignificant moments that make up our days are the gold, and we don't have to wait til the end of the rainbow to have it. It's here, right in front of us each and every day... a smile, a warm embrace, the scent of laurels in bloom, the sight of a hawk in flight... pink ribbons in the sky.

Sometimes life can feel a lot like you do when you've driven through the same neighborhood a thousand times, and then one day you walk it instead. All of the sudden you're noticing things you never saw before. "What a cute, little rock house. What gorgeous, blooming jasmine!" It's not as though those things appeared out of nowhere. They always were. We just weren't present before.

I'm thankful for this place in life now. Our commitments have whittled down to what seems like bare bones compared to all we had going on in earlier decades. It has given me time, time that was always there but not fully appreciated until now. I still put my hand to the plow because I believe God intends us to stay productive as long as He grants us breath, but now I take time to look around as I go. And I have learned. I have learned that there is as much purpose in the process as there is in the end result, sometimes even more.

And I have come to love and appreciate more than ever before in my life... the slow travel.