That rushing woman. I still remember how she felt some days. Rushing here, rushing there. Running on adrenaline. Running from one appointment to the next. Fidgeting in unproductive, uninspiring meetings wondering if they would ever end. Thinking of all the things she still had to do and getting frustrated. Saying yes to too many things. Too scared to say no for fear of letting anyone down. Trying to be all things to all people. But unable to say yes to the things that mattered. And there was never enough time. Never enough time.
Starting to exhale. Noticing each breath. Feeling the space in the rise and fall of every moment. Opening her eyes. Saying yes to what matters. Saying yes to making instant snow for no reason other than because they want to. Saying yes to half a gorilla coming home with the paint still wet on his face.
Saying yes to playing bare foot in fountains and being talked into ice cream sundaes AND fries.
I feel her.
She feels more deeply. The intensity of the feelings she allows herself to have room for continue to surprise her. Her love for her family overwhelms her. There is this freedom in just being. In not over planning and over scheduling. In not having to go and do. In allowing the moments to happen as they will. She is learning as she goes. She is slowing down to live.
I know her.
I am her.