word of the day: rush

by erika

Hi Friends,

Mornings are my time to see the world and write it right. And with early meetings and teaching, I have had no mornings to speak of. This morning, with our beautiful guest, Uri Shaffir in my class, I planned to drop off, go home, sit down, and dig in. And then I/we/he left the lunch. The lunch I made and put no note in (oh my gosh, mom, so embarrassing), the lunch I handed him and he put down as he velcroed his shoes (stop rushing me, geez), the lunch that has to be brought to school by 11 because he refuses to eat the hot lunch (They put broccoli on soggy pizza, so gross), the lunch that stopped the world.

And all of a sudden, post drop-off, I’m crying. Not because of the lunch but because of lost time. And not time this morning, but all the time. All the rushing. past and through and around. All the moments that got left on the counter. That got packed up without a note.

word of the day: rush

rushing water. the rush of blood. the gold rush. that terrible first two weeks of school where all the girls wear the same short  dresses and impossibly high heels. the surge to an unnatural speed. the act made with haste, eagerness, or without preparation. mountain dew plus lucky charms.

So many ways to see the wor(l)d.

But when I’m rushing, I miss so much.

Yesterday in technique class, Uri had us walk through the space. He instructed us to move as if rushing, as if we were trying to claim the space around us. The energy of the room tightened and the interstitial spaces were wrought with a kind of ego-centric magnetism that one finds when navigating the stairs leaving the subway at Columbus Circle. He then asked us to keep the speed but to treat the space as if we were giving way to others. We hurried around, but this time, to give back, to make way. We moved quickly but with generosity. We had to look. We had to offer. And still, we moved fast.

In these days that come in like a lion, I might not be able to slow down. I might keep rushing from my office to the copier to the classroom…but what if I did it with a wake of generosity and giving way? How does that change me? Might it actually ease my path while making more room for others? The go(l)d we are all rushing towards is connection. It is easy to miss when we are in a blur.

And then I dig in, mining the real metal of my sadness…What if I had never felt like I was in someone’s way? What if they had softened their path and made room for mine? How different would I/we/they be? What if the “lunch” that I left was brought to me unexpectedly and what if in it, they had placed a note…what a rush that would have been.

This is the love note I tucked in your brown paper sack. The one I wasn’t too busy to write. Because I love you. rush.

Love to all,

not-so-silent e