It feels as though there is never a moment for me to catch my breath. I watch my life pass by from a treadmill that never stops. I can’t seem to slow myself down enough to follow my own beat. Can I even hear it anymore? Yet when the treadmill I’ve been running on for so long abruptly stops working, I collapse on the ground, blindsided by this turn of events. I am completely and utterly lost and confused. What happened? Why now? Why this? It doesn’t make any since. As I constantly run, I long for a chance to just breathe and experience a little serenity, yet when I’m forced to stop and recover; all I want to do is get right back on the treadmill. It’s a new experience that I don’t know how to grasp; I don’t want to grasp it, because it’s different. I’ve been running the same trail, the same speed for so long, that I can’t imagine beginning anew.
Yet after months of being tortured by the stillness I inevitably have to face, I very slowly begin to appreciate this strange serenity. I begin to see the world through different eyes. Maybe my life isn’t meant to always be run at the same pace. Lately, a gentle stroll through a quiet park, savoring the peace and serenity has been a secret blessing. But maybe now I’m ready to gradually pick up speed. Yet there is a flicker of fear silently burning within me. Am I ready for this? What if it gets too steep? How fast can I really go and still be okay…?
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