Can A RoadRunner Slow Down?

There's a poem circulating via email called "Slow Dance." It's supposed to be written by a young girl dying of cancer, and the main message is "Slow down, enjoy life, time is short." (The email is a hoax of sorts, however, since the poem was written by an adult male child psychologist named David L. Weatherford.)

Nonetheless, the message of the poem struck home for me, especially since my family is also coping with a terminally ill aunt.

When I was a kid, my dad nicknamed me "Antsy," because he said I had "ants in my pants." Various tasks of my life, for me, have always been about the end result. The goal. The final purpose. I am not a "stop and smell the roses" type of person. I am more the kind of person who will tramp over the roses if they are slowing my progress. Call me Type A. Call me impatient. Call me a whirlwind. Whatever you call it, I've probably been labeled it in the past by someone.

I used to take pride in this characteristic. It made me more efficient. When employed, I could do the same job as someone else in half the time. I was focused, quick, and prolific. I did not enjoy the journey, but I was great at producing an end result in short order.

Even with my own children, I find myself constantly saying, "Hurry, hurry." My elder child always wants to pick weeds flowers before we get into the car, and I am always rushing her along. I don't know the meaning of the word "relax." I don't know how to appreciate a moment.

I need to work on this. I want to learn how to live in the present, how to enjoy the journey, how to cherish the small moments. I'm not sure if I can become a slow dancer, but I think it would be best for my family if I tried.