Slowly but Surely

Slowly but Surely

"Slowly but surely you'll get there," said an elderly man in a wheelchair waiting in a doorway. I wondered how he had gotten there because no one seemed to be around to help him. Maybe he had come out of his apartment just to see who passed by. I had the sensation he spent his time people watching.

His comment wasn't directed at me, although I stopped pedalling so hard because I thought it would be rude to whiz by him. 

Another elderly man who must have been his friend waved to him. He was an older gentleman as well, and was stubbornly limping along. There was no pain in his face, however–it was just his inconsistent gait that gave it away.

"There's no hurry," the first gentleman added.

And he was right. There was no hurry, although I felt like I needed to be in one to pedal home faster. And I thought, Would five or ten minutes really make a difference? The answer was no.

Hurry exists inside of us. Sometimes others want us to feel it, sending us darts of anxiety, pointing out deadlines, calling or texting us with urgency.

There are always consequences. If I arrive at the bus stop late, the bus most likely will have passed. Or if I am constantly getting to work after the assigned hour, I will probably get fired. Even if I arrive early, there are consequences: I might make a good impression, or maybe I catch the end of an interesting conversation (or one I wasn't supposed to hear.)

There are consequences to everything.

But, in the end, hurrying brings haggard. I remember panicking once because I couldn't find the small studio where I was supposed to have an audition for an avant-garde play. I was baking under the hot sun and kept rushing around this dodgy area with only a few stores. No one I asked knew where the studio was. Finally, I got some good directions at a mall and ran to the appointment. However, I had to wait outside because they were running late and I was all sweaty and agitated. Maybe the audition would have gone better if I hadn't been so anxious to get there.

But we can't change the past, we can only learn from it. Life is full of learnings, but at a fast pace we may not have time to truly absorb them. Like, if I hadn't taken the time to slow down and see the exchange that afternoon I wouldn't have reflected upon it and written this entry.

In the end, everything gets solved in one way or another. Some things take time (like a lost love), and others are over before you realize they have started. So, the elderly gentleman was right: "there's no hurry". It's good to know. 

Text by: Kristen Mastromarchi

Photo by Morgane Le Breton on Unsplash