A Metaphor for Life

As you probably know, it's tough to move around quickly with a broken ankle. I'm wearing a boot instead of a cast, and I'm allowed to put weight on it so I don't have to use crutches, but my overall pace is quite a bit slower than normal. Everything takes a little longer. I almost have to plan my bathroom breaks because of the increased travel time required getting to the restroom, and I have to get up a little earlier for work, so I have extra time to hobble around the house, and because navigating from the parking lot to my desk takes some extra time.

At the end of work the other day, I began the long trek from my desk to my truck, bidding my co-workers good evening on my way out. I was about 1/3 of the way through the parking lot to my truck when one of my co-workers blew by me on the way to his vehicle and I was struck by how hurried his pace was compared to mine, and I saw the comparison to life in general.

Everyone in our society is always moving so fast. And when we inevitably run across someone moving slower than us, we are invariably irritated at how they're slowing us down. Getting stuck behind the slow car in traffic... waiting on the co-worker to finish their share of a coordinated project... stressing out over the person in front of us with a full shopping cart at the supermarket... we can't wait to finish what we're doing so we can rip headlong into the next thing. And it's doubly frustrating if we have to wait on someone else.

As I pondered this, I stopped in the middle of the parking lot and looked around. The juxtaposition of my company's foundry and the natural grove of trees just past the fence didn't escape me. The sound of machines combined with birds chirping in the meadow sunk in. I thought about how man is so removed from our environment... we hurry, hurry, hurry around in our endless quest to mold nature to our satisfaction at an ever-increasing pace.

Fast-forward to this morning. I hobbled out to my deck, sat down with my coffee and enjoyed nature, taking delight in the slightly-too-warm sun shining on my face, seeing the soft breeze gently moving the tree branches and watching the ants endlessly bringing food to their colony. I want to be the tree, not the ant. I want to stop and feel the sun and wind on my limbs. I have no desire to be an ant, frantically working non-stop through life without noticing the beauty around me.

Fortunately, I tend to be balanced in my life. I like enjoying what life has to offer, even if that enjoyment has the occasional consequence, such as a broken ankle.