I tiptoe into my mom’s bedroom to lie on her bed. I realized she had spent the night at Gaby’s when I checked her location as soon as my eyes opened.
It’s interesting how I feel the urge to make sure she’s arrived at her destination. Miami drivers scare us all.
I turn down the volume on Elena’s monitor, since I’m now right next door. If she wakes up and calls my name, I’ll hear her immediately.
My head sinks into mom’s pillow. I smell her shampoo on it. I take a few seconds to appreciate how close she is to me after so many years of seeing each other mostly on screens.
My phone begins buzzing as the morning darkness begins to fade. Many early slices land in my reader’s feed, and I remind myself to read slowly.
There’s an Instagram reel that pops in my head: a woman doing house chores in a rush, and suddenly stopping to remind herself that none of it is an emergency. She aggressively throws clothes into the washing machine. Pauses, breathes, and reminds herself, “This is not an emergency.”
She goes on to do the same with other chores: loading the dishwasher in an orderly fashion so everything fits, picking up dirty socks from her kid’s room, and folding the towels coming fresh and warm from the dryer. Not an emergency.
When I read these slices, I remind myself, too: This isn’t an emergency. There’s no race to read faster or more. I do want to participate in many of them, engage, show up.
Mostly, though, I want to stay with those people and their words for a bit longer. So I breathe and embody the woman and her non-emergent chores.
One slice, smiles, sigh, comment, like (it’s my way to keep track).
Another slice, a bit shorter, jot down a phrase I like, breathe, comment, like.
Check Elena’s monitor. She’s still out.
A third slice, a bit longer, laughter, reread that last paragraph, grin, comment, like.
The party boats sail by, and I wonder if those people are partying late or early. Maybe my slice for tomorrow? I type “party boats” on my notes app and carry on.
One more slice. Thanks, Elena. Not an emergency. I stay with her poem. Save it so that I can print it tomorrow. Read it again. Comment. Like.
Life is filled with moments that pretend to be emergencies. And I allow them to be as such. But they aren’t. And I don’t have to rush through all of them like a lunatic.
I know I won’t get to everyone, every day, but I can commit to this new “not-an-emergency” way of reading.
Start with a Story 
Thank you, Ana….for giving me permission this morning to slow down. I, too, felt this urgency yesterday and this morning. SOL is a new community, a new project for me, and I want to show up well! But, your words remind me “there’s no race to read faster or more”….I too want to engage meaningfully. Your post was exactly what I needed this morning as I begin my day.
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So much of what you write resonates. Our tendency to hurry up when it’s not at all necessary – that’s very familiar. This idea of moments pretending to be emergencies offers a slightly different lens on the whole topic which I appreciate. Thanks for jogging my thinking today.
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I know this instagram reel you speak of! I’ve been trying to remind myself of it as I find my shoulders hunched at my desk during my workday, or as I rush around the house doing chores. I can sloooooow doooowwwn. None of it is an emergency.
Also, I feel you with the Miami drivers. I always want to know my people get to where they need to be!
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You have such a knack for writing slices that are both grounding and inspiring! The phrase “not an emergency” is going to linger with me long after I read this.
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“I remind myself to read slowly.” I find myself having to remind myself of this constantly. It’s not a race to be run, it’s a journey to savor.
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This actually just made me feel so much better. I woke up to a whole slew of slices in my “reader” and I was feeling anxious about reading them all. “Not an emergency.” I’m going to keep reminding myself of that and enjoy what I can enjoy!
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Omg, I can’t believe this!!! I literally quoted this lady today as I was rushing Mateo to go to the potty. “It’s not an emergency” just hits different and like you said life goes by and we are all meant to not only enjoy it but actually LIVE IT, te quiero.
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my own breath and reading slowed by the style of writing here – there was calm in your reassurance of no emergencies. Thanks for this reminder and outlook on sharing and reading in this community, too, this month
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I adore this! “Not an emergency type of reading” (and doing) will be my new mantra. I haven’t seen that reel, but I could picture it perfectly with your words. That’s me! Maniacally doing chores and crossing off my mind’s list is something I do & have always done. Thank you for sharing so beautifully — my incoming peace thanks you!!!!
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