What's the Rush?

Maybe it was on the millenium or maybe it was 9/11, but on some momentous mark, I resolved to Stop Rushing. Years passed, charged by, actually, as I watched, bewildered, my resolution crushed by the stampede of moments.  Resolution wasn't enough.  I had to ask:  

What's the Rush?  No, Really.  What is it?

First of all, I don't have time to stop rushing--too many other things to do.  The Tyranny of ToDos, I call it.    Except who put the damn things on the list?  

Don't start with me!  I've tried dropping the list.  If I don't have a list, the world runs me down.  My daughter's needs and the bits and pieces of life fill the entire container and I'm still rushing to keep up.   No, I know.  Set priorities, right?   

Easier said than done.  Let me start with desire.  Desire is the driver in my endless rush hour.  I desire to dance.  I desire to write, to make videos.  I desire to keep my household functional, meaning I want to be able to find stuff, have room to put that stuff away and keep it clean.  I desire to maintain my psychology career.  I desire to meditate.  I desire connections with friends.  And then there is my daughter:  my desires/needs, her desires/needs.  My husband with All That.  not to mention my dog, who desires to be walked whether or not I desire it.   And at the end of the list is the thing I can't live without: unstructured time to play.

So, can you guess what I actually live without?  

If you guessed play, then maybe you can guess the true reason for the relentless rush.  Starved for play time, I strive to make my deadline, then find myself doddling, as if some song is playing far away and I have to pause to hear it.  I have to pause to hear it.  …Pause….  Breathing in, I listen.  Breathing out, holy sh-t, look at the time!!!!!!!!!!    I am traumatized by time, by the future rushing at me while I was looking the other way.  

So I try to force myself to look straight ahead, get ready, do the dishes, faster, put the stuff away, do not get distracted by the arrangement of things.  And the more I force, the stronger the languid pull of the song that I cannot hear.  

There is only one solution to this sad cycle, and that is to include play in the structure.  This is radical for anyone in this culture, but especially for a Mother.   "Not now dear, I have to get to play."   And it's not like I haven't been determined before.  After all, I made a whole movie about claiming time for mothers, for the sake of the kids.  But now I discover that I have to be specific.  It's not just about squeezing in time to go to the spa or have lunch with friends, it's about leaving enough empty space so that I can hear the song.   It is my song, and I have to find it before I decompose.  

Ah, but how shall I deal with desire?

2012 

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Note:  The dilemma of Rushing spawned a whole new section--Work With It.  

Update on Friday, June 8, 2012 at 4:44PM by Elena Taurke

Comments

Submitted by Marina Romani on Thu, 05/20/2010 - 16:32.

Yes! Include play in the structure.

Or, a way I've found useful is to seize the moment: when you realize you're doddling, starting to hear tones of that song, declare the moment the start of playtime. Give yourself to it, for as long as you can, even if it is within the multiple cross-desires of your life. It may look like procrastinating, but you know better.