Daily post prompt Pace Oddity
If you could slow down an action that usually zooms by, or speed up an event that normally drags on, which would you choose, and why?
Neither-that’s the response that popped up in my head when I read this question.
Time is tricky; it passes incredibly fast and in a snail’s pace at the same time. When I think back, the last year-two years-have zoomed by before I could savour it. On the other hand, these days can’t pass by fast enough for me to be out of high school and into college. So many events and occasions took place and I don’t remember everything-most of it is a blur. But some inconsequential-seeming memories are stuck in my head, as if they took place only yesterday.
I pondered for minutes, thinking about various actions and events that I would wish to slow down or speed up. Everything that I thought of, I dismissed within seconds excusing that their pace didn’t have to be different. I moved on to simple things, thought about what I love the most or what gives me peacefulness, and I’m choosing walking.
Walking?? You look on in confusion.
Yes, dear reader, walking. Have you ever thought of it, not as a means of reaching somewhere, but the act itself?
In the present day, everyone keeps rushing around, worrying about some or the other job, striving to complete something, prove something that hardly anyone stops for a minute to savour whatever they’re doing. There are so many stories where people admit that they spent their life running and always doing something that they regret later when they have passed a certain age. People make a few friends, move somewhere else due to something, lose contact with their old friends, make new ones and when they finally have retired and handed over the reins to their kids, they realise that they don’t really have much to fill their time with without work. As much as we try to argue and deny this fact, secretly we are all aware of it.
I don’t want to end up with that regret of not living. Therefore, I try to take some simple pleasures and be happy. I love breathing the fresh air, having no qualms about reaching somewhere on time or what I must do when I get home. Walking alone, I don’t have to worry about finding topics to fill conversations. I observe people who pass by me and notice everything-filing all of it away silently. I see how when someone walks by me, noticing me walking calmly with sharp eyes, earphones dangling from my ears or carrying a notebook and I see how they make judgements within a second and forget it two seconds after moving on. I am overshadowed by the number of thoughts running in their head-important topics on repeat and casual ones for a few minutes. A person, in almost every minute, makes at least one decision; doesn’t matter how small but it is made. I distance myself from reality for a little while and become an onlooker, seeing others and their lives.
I despise running (any exclusive exercise, in fact). But I do love the burning of my leg muscles after I have exhausted them. There is this strip of a road near my home where I could spend hours just walking back and forth. It’s used by various other residents of my area too-for either walking or running. Sometimes I walk into late times, when most other residents are at home having dinner or finishing up work for the day and in preparation for the next, I write in my head. I write about any thing that is conjured by my brain or starting up a story inspired from what I saw like when those two girls hurriedly walked across the road from me with trepidation and determination, both, in their expressions. I also make up new scenes for this story that I have been writing for more than four years now. With the amount of storyline I have, I could write a whole series. I have thought of it, but I eventually decide against it.
I never knew that I could write in earnest, or become an author. I started imagining just to take myself away from reality (I was not in a good place then). Over the years, I have filled in scenes, conversations and feelings that I wish took place in real life. To every one I know, I give myself away in pieces, never completely. Sure, if all of them got together they could put together the whole puzzle save for a couple pieces. That’s why this story is so dear to me, because I feel like I poured the real me into it. Every time I think about telling someone else about it or bringing it out, I hold back. I admit, I’m worried about judgements, but not the kind that I receive face-to-face. My friends will consider it and give me small encouragements and say its amazing as to not be perceived rude, but I want their real thoughts too.
I am blabbering, I tend to do that a lot.
What I mean to say is, I think about anything and everything when walking, not set on a time limit. I hate coming back home because I love that time when my mind and actions are not constricted towards the next goal. It feels liberating to not worry about things for that little time. I leave my home, shed all the worry, just walk, and come back rejuvenated. For so many people, maybe even you, caffeine or something like that is your energy booster. For me, it is walking. I come back charged, with more confidence and I immediately pounce upon any work that I remember I’m supposed to do.
For once, reader, carve some time out to go for a walk, and not a treadmill. Go out there, breathe in deeply, banish all the to-do lists from your head and just be.
How do you feel?
If you’ve read my last post, you’d know I mentioned about a writing piece that I lost. This was that. It’s not the same because I don’t remember word-to-word of what I wrote last night and have done many changes. I’m not satisfied by this, but its something right? I had to try again.