Getting my kid out the door and to school on time is a daily opportunity to practice.
When I’m caught up in the felt sense of time urgency in the moment, I can become like a fire hose. I direct all my energy toward getting him to move faster, reminding him of what needs to happen, and trying to manage every minute. In that state, it feels like the only way forward. Surely, if I stop applying pressure, nothing will get done.
Except that pressure doesn’t tend to work very well. He feels overwhelmed, I get more frustrated, and somehow we’re still not out the door.
What seems to work better is for me to back off. To feel my feet on the ground, let my shoulders drop, and intentionally return to a wider perspective. Life is already moving. I can join its current rather than trying to force it along.
A river doesn't stop flowing when it encounters a bend. Its current may quicken or slow, but it keeps moving. And when I can meet school mornings more like a river and less like a fire hose, things often unfold much more easily. My son has room to move at his own pace, without all that pressure to push against. And, we somehow make it to school on time, even though my mind has trouble comprehending how that could be.
Even when time is pressing, I don't have to become urgent. The deadline can still matter without my entire being turning into an alarm bell.
And really, isn't it so much nicer to be in the presence of a river than a fire hose?