Today I had a 1:00 appointment to meet a new writer interested in joining Cape Cod Writers Center. I planned to walk down to the local cafe (about a mile away) to meet him. I planned it perfectly. I left at 12:30 and enjoyed the gorgeous weather. I got to the cafe at exactly one and found the door locked. Yesterday they changed the hours. Now what? To go anywhere else I had to walk back home to get my car. He wasn’t there yet, so I started home, sending him a message to meet at a different cafe at 1:30.
Not knowing if he was going to get the message, I started walking as fast as I could. My legs were hurting. I was sweating. Then when I turned onto my street I realized I could only walk so fast. No matter how hard I wanted to speed up or just beam myself home, I had to face it. I couldn’t go any faster. Immediately my anxiety eased. I thought about being in a car and being late for an appointment. In a car I have a lot of power to draw on to go a bit faster. Not so with my legs. This was it. I wasn’t going to get there any faster than when I was going to get there. I might as well put on my music and enjoy the walk back and not worry so about being late. I surrendered to the moment and took much pleasure in the unusually warm day – music and pleasure I would’ve missed if I insisted on focusing on the mix-up and pushing myself fueled on anxiety. It was good to let go and just accept I can’t change the situation, (and hope he got the message).
He did. We met at 1:30 and had a lovely conversation over coffee, which I really needed by then.
And so, as another day goes by, once again I’m reminded that there really are going to be things I simply cannot control in this life, there are times I must stop pushing, forcing, and striving, and….I have written.
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