When I was ten years old, I took a little notebook I found and turned it into a book of lists. I can picture the notebook. It was floral, kitschy 90s, small and narrow, like an address book.
I titled the book “Chanee’s Helpful Handy Hints.” In it, I wrote myself detailed instructions about what to do in the event of things like fire, and the water system not turning off. I wanted to be prepared in any emergency, big or small.
Eventually, I outgrew that book. Prematurely embarrassed at the thought of it landing in the wrong hands, AKA: my sister, I disposed of it.
A part of me also realised that if there were a fire, it probably wouldn’t be up to a ten year old to fight it alone.
But, nevertheless, with notebook or without, I wanted to be prepared.
And I still do. I like to be one step ahead of any disaster that may strike my path. I want to be the one who calmly observes it, and wisely says, “Oh, yes, I saw this coming.”
Clearly, life has other plans. It springs things upon us, seemingly out the blue. Constantly.
So while I wish I could remain one step ahead, wise and all-knowing, I’m starting to see that I just can’t.
So instead, I’m trying to find my rhythm, my pace.
Life, I discovered, is a lot like walking. Not in the ‘one foot in front of another’ way that jumps to mind, although that metaphor is a strong one, too. I’m talking about going for a walk this time.
You decide to go, you put on your sneakers, grab your phone and keys, plug in your headphones, and start walking. But sometimes the music doesn’t click with you, the weather is interfering with your plans, and you’re just not feeling it.
But you persist. You do it anyway, yes, one foot in front of the other.
It may take a bit of time, but I find there’s eventually a shift for me. Something switches gears and I find myself enjoying it.
This, to me, is finding your rhythm. Because you don’t need to be competing, you can drop the expectations, loosen up, lighten up. And it starts to feel good.
I don’t believe life should be about fitting in to other people’s schedules and expectations. But I do believe it’s about being comfortable with your own. Knowing when to push yourself, and when to stop.
Only you can find your rhythm. Only you can set your own pace.
Chanee’s Helpful, Handy Hints is long gone. My belief that I can control all of life’s disasters if I only wrote myself instructions in my neatest handwriting is gone too.
But then, my ten year old self probably already knew that. Naivety can only survive so long.
Instead, I’m starting to realise I can do life on my terms, even in the hardest of times. I can pick up my pace, find my rhythm.