I’m a Sikh. Well, technically we all are something. Whether you believe in God or not, you were born as someone from a certain belief. If not your parents then maybe their parents or your great grand parents (you get my point). Even if you don’t believe in religion, you still belong to a certain sect (non derogatory), one that believe in a certain code. It’s free will and we practice what makes sense and is sensible.
My days are never short of drama. With three aspiring drama queens (one at the verge of breaking into teen hood), how can life ever get boring and I miss boring.
As usual my day was chaotic and always in a rush. I now live on warp speed drive. No matter what I do, I’m always rushing. I can’t recall the last time I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror or brushed my hair. Everything I do is always in my car with rear view mirror (please don’t follow this ill advised method).
Despite my best efforts, I managed to embarrass my kids once more. This time with my mismatched slippers. They didn’t buy it when told them they were stylish and in trend. All they wanted to do was get me out of their school, pronto. Rushing again.
Kids these days!
Later that day, it was more rushing. More errands to run. My mother suggested I stop by and pay a visit to our local Gurdwara (Sikh prayer place). She knew I would have said no, so she gave me a list of spices to get which can only be purchased from a spice store located in the Gurdwara.
I’m glad I went. I’m happy I went into the darbar (prayer hall). I’m grateful to the priest who stepped out of nowhere and offered me some degh (prasad).
That forced me to park my butt on the floor and gracefully accept the gracious gift. It inevitably put a halt to my overdriven day even if it was just for a couple of minutes.
I’m thrilled that it happened because I completely forgot my long list of things to do in those minutes. It mattered not that the prayer hall was empty, I still felt at ease and welcomed. At that moment of clarity because I wasn’t recalling what more I HAD to do on my list, I recalled a poem; ‘slow down mummy’ and realised how wonderful it was just to slow down.
How everything on my list could wait and there was no actual dire need to rush. How my constant need to rush and rushing others was in no way my children’s doing, though I keep saying my warp speed days were a package deal that came about when I delivered my bundle of joy(s).
I’m glad I listened to my mother. That two minutes break made a huge difference. I will be forever be grateful and hoping for more unexpected blissful moments, even if it’s just for a brief time.
Have you had you break yet? Just slow down, even for a moment. It’ll do you good.