As I was walking to the Metro today, I had The Sermon on the Mount on my brain (as we’re putting together some stuff for Sunday) as well as a blog post that’s been haunting me. And I thought of something that I’ve heard several places before:
You must ruthlessly eliminate ‘hurry’ from your life.
Rushing up the hill, halfway to the station, I thought about the fixed things in my day (the walk, the train ride, the walk to the jobsite, the whole trip back) and the fact that I couldn’t ‘rush’ them. (Actually, a couple of months ago, I could have run to the station…) And I wondered exactly how hurry is so damaging. And I wondered exactly how a person could slow down and still survive.
Right in the middle of that, I realized that I had forgotten to bring the key to get into the house where I’m working. That I would need to turn right around, walk back home, and make this same trip again. Which I did, rather dispassionately.
It certainly was not the case that the whole rest of my day was filled with light and life, and I had a revelation from On High, and I accomplished more than ever before, and that I avoided some tragic accident with my detour. But I did notice that the leaves were turning, and I suppose that’s something.