Being busy, slowing down, and watching my language

Has it really been a week and a half? I keep meaning to write about the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Run. I am going to cheat this time and point you to my other blog for this race review. Overall, I was thrilled with how it went. A wonderful experience with a ton of support, both on and off course. I was able to push myself, learn a lot about longer race experiences, and am still beaming about the experience! (Pictures will be forthcoming!)

Suffragists picketing the White House, January...

In what sometimes feels like another life, I was a communication studies scholar – rhetoric, specifically. Everyone would ask what rhetoric was, to which I would answer, how much time do you have? The short version is that we, as humans, use language to shape our world, our view of the world, and how we are in this world. I spent six or seven years immersed in these studies, learning about some amazing theorists and examining some interesting things (my masters thesis was on the American women’s suffrage movement in 1917). In my current, non-academic life, though, it’s the reminder that language is defining and powerful that shapes my world. As a storyteller, this makes sense.

When I started thinking about how to write about the last week and a half, all that kept coming to mind was how busy, how tiring, how go-go-go the week has been. I didn’t want to write about the amazingness of the CUCB, because there wasn’t time. And yet, that paints a complete different picture from how I feel about what’s been going on, and it also runs counter to the practices I’m trying to cultivate in my life.

The weekend of the CUCB race, my partner and I decided to move our moving date up by three weeks, if possible, to move this past weekend. We weren’t moving far, and we were tired of being surrounded by the boxes that has already been packed. Commence packing frenzy 2.0. (Note that this is our fourth move in three and a half years; one of those was cross country.) I was lucky that I was on Easter break, and my partner was caught up enough on her schoolwork to make it work. By the grace of help, pick up trucks, and lots of heavy lifting, we were able to get everything moved by Sunday, and last night, as of 1:00 AM, everything was unpacked (except for one box of pictures to be hung, and a box of stuffed animals). Whew!

So, yes, it’s been a flurry of activity, busy-busy-busy, but that doesn’t slow me down enough to experience the joy of our new place, which has an amazing amount of natural light. It doesn’t slow me down enough to fully express and feel the gratitude for those who helped us move. It doesn’t slow me down enough to shape my world to say how good it feels to be moved in, completely. It doesn’t slow me down enough to say, “Yay for a two year lease!” It doesn’t slow me down enough to cherish our routine and the fact I’m really excited to be cooking at home again. It doesn’t slow me down enough so that I don’t trip over my feet, or my words, which in turn, then shapes the world I see and the world I live in.

Just saying, “Wow, it’s been a week and a half, and it’s been busy!” doesn’t fully paint the picture of the world in which I live, or the world I wish to create.

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