4 minute mile

I have sprinter's calves and a sprinter's spirit.  I don't jog, not out of an unbridled restlessness but rather out of a peaceful acceptance of my nature.  I hear it's good for everyone to jog, so I took it up many years ago and my knees taught me an important life lesson: I am not everyone.  I was built to show how much can come from so little, built to show what I was up to when I was at rest, what I was cooking up in lab.

It's important for me to sprint, to give it my all and unleash my life's work with every stride.  Just as important as it is for me to sprint, it's important for me to rest.  Even if I could sprint a marathon, I would not be celebrated. The people would cheer for the first 100m, be amazed for the first 1km, but wait until the end of my race to tell my story.  And after all, a sprinter isn't measured by the amount of strides but by the strength of them.  To be a better sprinter than I once was my stride must gain in power; nobody wishes to commend me for my endurance so far, myself included. To gain in strength I need rest, and time to think, and plan, and test ideas.  Then I'll return to this world, these worlds.  I sprinted for four years, sprinted harder for the last two, and I am more powerful.  By grace I have more power to gain and in the future know that I have more to give, more to experience, more to have given to me, more experiences to share.  But today I am at rest. Rest, not sleep. Coddled up on a sofa with eyes just above the windowsill, watching the clouds form above, I'm focused on breathing, and drinking, and feeling. 

Time doesn't slow down when you want it to, it slows down when you let it unwind.  There is not so much to do, there are not so many moments lost, there are in fact no hours in the day.  The sun will fall and rise again, the only thing to consider is which activities are better attended to in the light and which in the dark. Even in writing this, I despair in having said so much about yesterday and tomorrow as it relates to who I am, when my only concern should be today.  And today, there is harmony; rain and a windowsill, distance and closeness, me and you.