Goodness, I want to ballroom dance.

There are a lot of things I should be doing right now, but I just got to thinking.

We have a lot of cliches to describe "moments." We have "the calm before the storm," the "blink of an eye," the "life flashing before our eyes," etc. Each of my days is packed. When I get into my car at the end of the day, I usually exhale quite loudly. I know that I must go home and tackle Part II, but Part I usually feels like warp speed. Seriously, my days FLY. My nights do too, but most of the time, no one is coming to me with questions or forms or stories or complaints, etc. I am "on stage" for a good portion of every day, hoping I don't miss my lines or stumble into an entrance too late. Night brings sleepy eyes and so many distractions. It brings thoughts about what to do tomorrow, and it brings thoughts of what I didn't accomplish today. But, once in a while, when I am really lucky, I can rewind and see those moments that mattered.

It is as if I am in a constant state of fast-forward, but ever so often, the DVD slows almost to a pause...the screen shifts...the colors get bolder...and then, just as quickly as it slowed, fast-forward resumes. So, when I look back on my days, all combined, it is easy to miss the movie. It is easy to forget the dialogue, to lack conviction and passion, to get to one part without having understand the scene before. I cherish the slow. Goodness, I have to remember to breathe. A pocket-sized Deep Space. A laugh shared amongst freshmen in Blue 4. Nineteen seniors excited about their own Mini-O, their only Mini-O. Being there for my mother in the midst of hell. Ballroom dancing through my apartment with no one leading.

Slow down.

I can't stand fast-forward anymore.