For many summers, I dreamed of having a full calendar as I sat patiently waiting for my friends to return from their vacations. But this summer, even with the 10 AM feeling of having only just begun something in June, I feel interrupted by my fear of not having enough time. 

Now, I see something happening. But, it’s been there all along even when it felt like this season was centered around the competitive urge to be happy. Even when I felt like I was waiting for my plotline to begin, life was happening all along. I don’t know if I see it now because time is moving faster or if my eyes are opened wider. 

It occurred to me when I was packing my duffel bag for the second time in one week. I have friends who are surprised and delighted when I attempt a  handstand against a brick wall on Attorney Street. But, they’re just as elated to sit in my car at some bridge we decided was cool in high school and listen to the crickets sing. The whispers we share in restaurants easily turn to shrieks of joy. I’m not making choices I’ll regret in the morning. I’m collecting stories I’ll later share with them over coffee. One of them recently said I need to let go and have belief in myself because I “work like the devil”.

So when I can, I pause and appreciate what I’ve made for myself. I pull into a nursery and take a picture of the flowers. I stop the car and end up walking to the edge of the park and staring at the Sound. I downloaded an app on my TV that only shows me baseball. I roll onto my back on the terrace and inspect how my calves have grown stronger as my feet float in the air, and then look at the trees as the sun turns the greens gold

.

I eat the pound cake, bagels, tomato sauce, ice cream, and the fuchsia salad Amanda puts on the table because last fall my mom told me I needed to feed my happiness. I don’t care about the sand in my tote bag. I am learning to not care about the way my stomach looks. I’m also learning that I will experience the same lessons over and over again until I’ve learned them.

I laugh on the phone. I laugh at interns from offices who wear their backpacks in bars. I laugh about my nosebleeds, my sunburns, and the kiss on my neck which I tried my best to hide and failed miserably to conceal. I laugh because, on Cake Boss, the man who is The Cake Boss angrily yells at someone about cake at least once an episode and I have never yelled about cake once in my life. But, God willing, maybe one day the opportunity will present itself.

Time can’t be sped up, slowed down, or stopped. But, when I bump into someone from years ago on the street, I can’t help but be sentimental about the tempo of my life. And then, we both keep going.