I was driving back from the pizzeria, a works for me and a veggie for my youngest daughter, when I realized how slow I was driving. Even in the rural area where I live there was a queue of cars behind me (3 to be exact) waiting for me to either speed up or pull over. I did neither. During this leisurely drive home I realized I’d slowed down not only on this particular drive but in all aspects of my life. When did that happen? It was, of course, a gradual change. One not seen as it was happening but only after it was finished. I had reached the crest. I was coasting now.
This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop learning, writing, painting, traveling, growing (both inside and out). What it means, I think, is that I’m finally comfortable being me. We race, struggle, and fight with our past and our future trying to make some sense of it, trying to find solace in our choices, in ourselves. Some never reach it, others reach it in their youth. I probably took a little longer than most; although, I know people my age who are still climbing, still searching for who they are.
I’ve slowed down and begun to enjoy nearly everything more I than used. I eat slower, read slower, make love slower (my wife nods enthusiastically). I enjoy after dinner conversations, the dirty dishes can wait. I work slower and usually do a better job. I stop and listen to my kids. I even drive slower from the pizzeria and I am happy. The journey was hard, but getting here is nice.