Anti-frantic

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life.

—1 Thessalonians 4:11

I think I’ve been in a hurry for almost seven years. Seven years ago, I found out I was pregnant with Henry. Later that week I was offered a contract to write Cold Tangerines. And since then, it seems, I’ve been running against the clock. I’ve been stacking things up, plan upon plan upon plan. I’ve been cramming things in—pushing, hustling, scurrying. I’ve been strategizing, multitasking, layering commitments one upon another like bricks.

Frantic is when your mind has to work seven steps ahead instead of just being where you are, because this deadline’s coming, and the laundry has to get done before that trip, because you can’t forget to pack snowpants for school, and you need to beg for more time on this project. Again.

I’m not alone. So many of us are really, really tired of the hustle, and the next right thing is to slow down, to go back to the beginning, to stop. I’m done with frantic. The new baseline for me: will saying yes to this require me to live in a frantic way? The word that rings in my mind is anti-frantic. Present with my kids. Present to my own life. Anti-frantic.