It’s summer construction season in Seattle. I had children’s doctor appointments set up on opposite sides of the city, and somehow also had to get all the normal work done, meals made, house cleaned. We were more than 20 minutes late to our first appointment. I sat waiting to get through traffic lights that cycled with few getting through. The freeway was reduced by several lanes and there were orange construction cones everywhere I went. I lost my patience at one point and let out a guttural scream. It didn’t help that I was hobbling by on a few hours’ sleep.

This isn’t my experience every day but it could be. Modern life has so fractured our experience that we are moving, always, gathering up the pieces. Never resting. Never unhurried. I gather groceries, childcare, healthcare, work, in all different corners, never able to settle in my Center. Even socializing and recreation require so much effort in a busy city, a busy life.

I try to simplify, to slow down as I’m able. I ask myself where I can leave space unscheduled. But too often this is inevitable.

When I ventured back out on the road for the next stop, I brought a bowl of raspberries with me this time. I sat through the spinning light cycles, the slowdowns from the orange cones. I noticed the mindless way I put the berries in my mouth. And so I softened and slowed, right there in the midst of it all. I breathed. I paid attention. I started to taste the raspberries. Each. Delicious. One.

I smiled at the pink stains on my fingertips. Crushed the pockets of juice and felt the pleasure of it all. The explosion of summer in my mouth.

It almost seems like too much to hold in the midst of all that busyness. But it was actually less. It was a letting go of all the input and stimulation I didn’t need, to focus on exactly what I did. My children, the moment, a steady breath. When we arrived I was actually There. Not spinning in my stress.

I’m learning how to do this more effortlessly now. To bring myself powerfully into the moment and what it has to teach me. To offer me. What I can give back with my attention. It’s a radical recalibration.

I see also the ripple effects. How my children, my partner are more able to notice their needs and give voice to them. To show up with presence for their own Selves as well.

I hear more nuance in how my body moves and resists and what that has to tell me. Something I’ve relied on others for so long to be able to hear.

I feel like for the first time I’m honoring Self. When I push through a boundary, I feel the pinch acutely. I know what I’ve done. And I offer the promise that I’ll honor that limit the next time it arises.

I move with more ease and intention. I still have to compromise with a lived reality that is often unrelenting, always hurried, persistent, demanding. Eager to extract my labor for its own profit.

But there are spaces I can hold for authoring my experience. And the momentum gains.

A Radical Recalibration

Letting Go of Performance

Where My Body Ends and Hers Begins