Growing up, I spent summers visiting my grandparents for a couple of weeks at a time by means of taking a family road trip. My grandfather would train his current horse for riding over the years. When grandchildren and great-grandchildren were old enough, he taught anyone who wished for the opportunity to ride. There was one rule: if we wanted to ride, we also had to care for the horse. We would go to the stable with him, learn to muck the stalls, feed, and brush the horse. The older we became, the more we were taught and given more responsibility. One of the lessons learned while learning was to say “whoa" while pulling on the reins with just enough pressure to help ensure the horse knew his or her cue. Whoa, is to stop. When I stop and reflect, these are some of the happiest memories of my lifetime.
Towards the end of September, I noticed the first leaves falling. Where I live, we don't have many trees that change color. There are a couple of trees in my area, and there are a couple of breathtaking drives, but none quite like the mountains of Tennessee. Here we have a number of trees that stay green and others that only change into their brown attire before waving goodbye. As I stood gazing through my kitchen sliding glass door, I stopped. I said whoa to my day long enough to notice the few fluttering leaves waving goodbye to one season and waving hello, welcoming in the new season.
Technology has changed everything for most people. We no longer have time to sit, reflect, and notice. We hustle and bustle and claim we do not have enough time. The truth is, we all have time. We just stopped making time for the things that matter the most, such as slowing down long enough to notice the leaves changing or slowing down long enough to grab a coffee with those who mean the most in our lives. Calling someone is something of the past, and it seems we all are caught up in the busyness and forget to slow down.
Moving to Tennessee has set the tone for me. I moved from an area of the States where the hustle and bustle of life and talking a million words a second was considered normal. I also lived with extreme anxiety for more reasons than one, but the hustle of it all played a part in my mental health. Slowing down since moving to Tennessee has made me more intentional with my time, my work, and connecting. It has enabled me to prioritize, focus, and schedule calls so I have the time to talk; instead of taking such frequent calls, I can't keep up with priorities. Saying Whoa to life has enabled me to breathe deeper, watch most sunsets for a few minutes, and give thanks for my day and some other specifics.
Consider your time, always remember life is precious, and keep asking yourself where you might say "whoa" to one thing to make room for another.
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