January 3, 2012

slowing down

In New York, I spotted the gym-goers on the third floor, racing on their treadmills
toward dinner reservations or a show or some wild idea that told them 30 minutes a day
on the "mountain climber" setting would fix it all. The whole city was breathing
hard, it seemed, moving on hyper-speed, but it would be a lie to tell you
I leaned back from the quiet perch of my own stillness to observe the mad rush
as if it were a weekend’s entertainment. I didn’t. Inside, I’m on a parallel clock,
fashioning deadlines for everything. Now of course, I’m at the beginning again,
and the itch for a solid finish at its itchiest. “This will be the year I…” goes the familiar
refrain. Meanwhile, the sky slips toward evening, an edgeless nuance of shifting color,
and I watch as winter birds glide toward their potential, steady and serene as ever.