Life is flying by too quickly for me and I can’t hold on. Like I’m in a race car without a gear. Too much happening all at once. I try my best to understand this by having these conversations inside my head.
When I was growing up, the pace was much slower. Everything took time. There was no social media frenzy. I could go out and enjoy my time without being harassed with phone calls or messages.
Sometimes when I go out now and accidentally forget my phone, I feel liberated, like a runaway prisoner.
I keep asking myself: why do I have to know what’s going on in the world every minute of the day? I remember a day when I’d just wait for the TV news at the top of the hour and feel satisfied. I remember a day when I only found out about occasions and events when I got a phone call (from a landline) or an invitation card.
I try to slow down the pace of this crazy life, but I don’t always win. The best thing that works is escaping the crowd and sitting at my laptop (I’m ashamed to say I’ve stopped using my much-cherished notebooks). I also lavish in delving into my world of books. Reading classics is a great escape. I like to read about people moving around with horse-pulled carriages and using telegrams.
Maybe I should try living in the countryside for a few weeks. I’d wake up early to milk the cows, because if I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to have milk for breakfast. I’d get water out of the well and ride my horse to the city to sell the butter I made the night before. You think I might complain from the absolute silence of day and night? During the day, I’d only hear the mooing of the cows and neighing of the horse. At night, the crickets and owls. There wouldn’t be any warplanes or drones above. It would really be a peaceful life.