When I was in junior high, I ran track. My events were always sprints. I never did get the hang of running distances over a hundred yards. I ran the 400 relay and the 100 yard hurdles. I was never the best, but I always placed. If I had been a little bit taller though…
I loved track meets. I felt so cool walking around the football stadiums in my cleats. I loved the way they made you walk funny and how they made a click, click, click sound as you walked. I also loved pounding my blocks into just the right settings and placing them at just the right spot for the best start. It’s a bit of a science.
The most nerve-racking part of the whole process is just before you step into your blocks. You stretch. You check out the competition. You try to breathe out the nervousness with some deep inhales and exhales, then the Starter says “On your marks!” You quickly get yourself into your blocks with your fingertips up to the white line as close as you can get without touching. Your focus is only on the lane ahead of you and that finish line. “Set!” You push into your blocks and hands and lean forward as far as you can to get the best possible launch into action. Then the Starter shoots his pistol and the race is on. And…then it’s over. Like that (I’m snapping my fingers.)
I decided to move out of state in November of last year and ever since then, I feel like I’ve been perched in my blocks, waiting for the Starter to fire the pistol. I ready. I’m sweating with pent up energy. Why won’t he fire the damn pistol?
But as they say, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” I mean seriously, why should I be in any hurry, getting frustrated with the time it’s taking, and missing out on the fun along the way?
I’m enjoying going through all of my stuff and enjoying, even more, the process of letting a lot of it go. I’m only taking with me what I truly want, which isn’t a whole lot. I want to eventually minimize down to the basic necessities. Perhaps Tiny Home basics, even.
I also want to savor the time I have left living with my niece. She has been with me for seven years, just me and her. It’ll be a major adjustment for both of us. (We may be slightly codependent.) But she’s a big girl now and I’m excited to see what she does with her life.
I’m not going to miss a lot about this place. Temperatures are in the teens today with negative wind chills. I won’t miss that. I also won’t miss the ninety percent humidity in the summer. Or the Omaha stare. The Omaha stare is perhaps the thing I hate most about Omaha. It happens when you go to smile at or greet someone, who is looking right at you, but they suddenly look past you and pretend they didn’t see you. No expression whatsoever. Even people you know do this. As a girl who grew up in Texas where everybody greets everybody, being confronted with the Omaha stare has been the bane of my existence for twenty years.
Of course, I will miss my family. My brother and his family are still here, as well as my other grown up niece and nephews. I’ll miss my extended family, my tiyospaye, up at Maple Landing, but I can always come back for Sundance. I’ll miss my yoga studio and the healers that have helped me over the last five years or so. And my kittens! Man, am I going to miss those two little rascals.
So I suppose, instead of racing for the finish line, I’ll just mosey along and enjoy the little time I have left here. The end of this race will be over before I know it. Luckily, there are lots of other races to look forward to.