Pace

10 September, 13

Pace

In greyhound dog racing, the track utilizes a mechanical rabbit that races ahead of the dogs to give them a focal point. Evidently greyhounds are incredibly fast, but also stupid and given to wandering about when presented with the opportunity. It would be quite a disaster if a stray cat happened to enter the race course.

I think sometimes, I am chasing a rabbit. Not even a real one. Just a mechanical contraption that keeps me running really fast in a circle. Most of it is hereditary. My grandfather would run across roof trusses that were not nailed down. He was part billy goat.  As a kid, I used to love to watch my dad do his run/skip/scamper from one place to another, snapping his fingers and whistling some unintelligible tune.  He was busy, and he was happy. My wife and kids can attest to the fact that I have the same tics. The few times I have worked in an office environment with others, they have always been amused/annoyed by the same activity. “Why do you run everywhere?” “Here comes Dan.”

For the past few months, Susan and I have been running at a furious pace, trying to get everything together for this move to Spain. We breathed a collective sigh when we landed at Alicante Airport. That was just to catch our breath, however. Since arriving in La Alberca, we have been chasing some of the same rabbits as in America, except we are like a blind dog that doesn’t know the track is round and turns left. It is like running through the woods downhill at night. (I love to do that, by the way.) Government forms this way. School meetings that way. Furniture ahead.  Meal prep behind.

One of the things I do not want to export to Spain is busy-ness. That is the rabbit that Susan and I chased all over Pinehurst, NC. I want that rabbit to die. I am also learning, though, that without a plan for the day, busy-ness is the default rabbit. I think we need to replace the rabbit with an old horse that is comfortable in the harness.  Horse, thy name is Schedule.