Here I am at the airport, again. It’s gray, dreary and cold outside, but I’m sitting by the window looking at planes and solving the world’s problems. This little turbo prop caught my eye. A “turbo prop” is an airplane powered by propellers rather than jet engines; you don’t see many of these anymore. This was an Air Canada Express with a huge, gorgeous maple leaf on the tail.
That reminds me of a trip to Montreal years ago, when I bought these delicious maple sugar cookies in the shape of maple leaves to bring home to my family and friends. I was so pleased with my souvenir purchase until I noticed that same cookie in our local Harris Teeter grocery store. And it was less expensive.
Anyway, I watched that little turbo prop warm up; first one engine and then the other turning those propeller blades. Soon they were spinning so fast that I couldn’t see the individual blades anymore. I leaned forward and tried to find the propeller blades but all I could see was a soft, grayish blur–like an optical illusion. I knew those blades were there working hard but I couldn’t see them.
I’m thinking of a friend of mine who moves through life so fast that I can hardly see her. She is uber-productive but our interaction feels like a momentary blur before she is airborne again. The truth is, I have days like that, when there is hardly breathing room from sun up to sun down. Sometimes we use the expression “they just don’t see me,” meaning they don’t know me or understand me. Wonder if that’s because we are only a blur to them?
I also wonder if I sometimes become a blur to myself. I’m not taking time to think about what is important, because I know I’m over the edge and it seems so difficult to get back to reasonable living. It’s the same way in which we ignore a needy email or unpleasant task.
Talk to me about slowing down. How do you balance productivity and peace?