I Was Rushing and She Had Cancer

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Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
— Buddha

I woke up today rushing like I do most days.  I didn’t’ get much done the night before.  Normally I spend some time after work on Fridays tidying up and doing small chores so my weekend isn’t consumed with scrubbing toilets and doing laundry.   I just wasn’t up for it.  So I spent most of my free time that night uploading pictures, talking on the phone, online reading and web surfing.   Call me a woman of leisure!

Like most people I have a lot of responsibilities – places I need to be and things I need to get done.   Most days it’s what I thrive on – I’m a beast.  Some days I don’t always go about it without making a statement.   My husband calls that complaining.  I call it saying facts out loud.  He doesn’t always get that a breach of order can mean a total domestic apocalypse.  It’s not about priority when EVERYTHING needs to be done.  I don’t give a s@!% what Working Woman or anyone else says about organizing your day – birthday treats for class are either done or not done and your colleagues at that 9:00 meeting don’t give a crap if your kid forgot his backpack at home.  Period.

Wait – where was I?

Oh yes, so I was rushing.  I had only a couple of hours to get breakfast, chores, showers and laundry done before we needed to be at the little league field.  It was the first game of fall baseball.  We are playing in different league while our fields are being revamped.   Don’t want to be late when you’re the new people!

I was standing there with my giant bottle of water and peanuts stating out loud how unbelievably muggy and hot it was.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see someone walking, they were moving slowly and caught my attention.

It was a woman and a little girl holding hands as they walked.  The woman walked slowly as if she was in pain and the little girl as if she didn’t know any different.  As they came into focus I realized the woman was bald underneath her cap and although I didn’t know her nor had I ever seen her before, her face was obviously swollen.  She had cancer.

I studied her as she moved around getting her little leaguer’s things in order and then she sat with the little girl under a tree and watched the boys practice.  I thought to myself what a relief it must have been for her to sit and enjoy the breeze that was coming through.

I stood back and snapped a picture – purposely far enough away so that no one could be identified and especially to not make her the focus.  I secretly wished I could give her the picture – it was such a precious and peaceful moment.

I felt convicted by and ashamed of my princess problems.  What this woman likely wouldn’t give to be able to do chores and laundry – to be a beast.  My emotions were instantly vested in this stranger. 

She showed me the beauty in being still and being in the moment.  I’m hoping time won’t fade this life lesson.