I think the picture of being over the hill applies to much younger people as well as those in "middle age," in many cases more so in the way in which I am using it here.
There's a tipping point in most every life where demands, responsibilities, and schedules begin to dictate the tempo of life. The steepness of the grade varies, but the sensation of going downhill becomes normal. Life naturally speeds up. The refrain, "where did the time go?" becomes common.
In this way almost everyone is "over the hill" from the early days of adulthood. In the earnest desire to fulfill ones responsibilities life begins to slip by, much of it unnoticed, unexperienced, under-appreciated.
When going downhill it is imperative to keep a foot on the brakes to avoid speeding out of control. Or, if the brakes have failed, to pull off the road into one of those gravel pits created for just such an emergency. (a.k.a. rehab, a retreat center, the guest bedroom at a good friend's place)
For some reason, not entirely clear to me, it is hard to ride the brakes in life. To slow down, look around, to savor life has become almost impossible. I suspect that this comes from an enculturated set of values that are largely unexamined. But whatever it's source the momentum is powerful.
But like most growth, it can begin from something small, like a seed. Centering prayer increases the desire to be centered. Breath prayer awakens the hope of peace in any situation. Meditative, mindful walking and/or working slows down the rush of thoughts and broadens the scope of awareness which increases the desire to notice and appreciate the ordinary. Stopping after an activity to make space for presence increases the desire for presence.
We often live as if we were automatons, but we are not. Slow down, wake up. I promise that the mild discomfort involved in slowing down will quickly fade as you feel the stressful driveness evaporate and begin to notice beauty, peace, and hope growing in the rich soil of creation.
There's a tipping point in most every life where demands, responsibilities, and schedules begin to dictate the tempo of life. The steepness of the grade varies, but the sensation of going downhill becomes normal. Life naturally speeds up. The refrain, "where did the time go?" becomes common.
In this way almost everyone is "over the hill" from the early days of adulthood. In the earnest desire to fulfill ones responsibilities life begins to slip by, much of it unnoticed, unexperienced, under-appreciated.
When going downhill it is imperative to keep a foot on the brakes to avoid speeding out of control. Or, if the brakes have failed, to pull off the road into one of those gravel pits created for just such an emergency. (a.k.a. rehab, a retreat center, the guest bedroom at a good friend's place)
For some reason, not entirely clear to me, it is hard to ride the brakes in life. To slow down, look around, to savor life has become almost impossible. I suspect that this comes from an enculturated set of values that are largely unexamined. But whatever it's source the momentum is powerful.
But like most growth, it can begin from something small, like a seed. Centering prayer increases the desire to be centered. Breath prayer awakens the hope of peace in any situation. Meditative, mindful walking and/or working slows down the rush of thoughts and broadens the scope of awareness which increases the desire to notice and appreciate the ordinary. Stopping after an activity to make space for presence increases the desire for presence.
We often live as if we were automatons, but we are not. Slow down, wake up. I promise that the mild discomfort involved in slowing down will quickly fade as you feel the stressful driveness evaporate and begin to notice beauty, peace, and hope growing in the rich soil of creation.
