hurry up now darling

"Hurry" by Hans-Jörg Aleff is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Holding so many tendrils right now as the year begins to pick up speed. I laughed and groaned as I read this poem, Hurry, by Marie Howe.

Not only do I spend much of my time nudging, cajoling, and yelling to hurry myself and others, I also find myself in the company of many others barreling through everything with our insistence for speed.

Last week, while in Seattle in a pouring rainstorm with a baby in a stroller, more than once someone walked into us while looking at their phones. Once it was while crossing a street. No one was hurt, but we stood there dripping wet, eyes meeting surprised that I wasn’t a screen, slightly dangerous in the immediacy.

I thought about this for some reason this morning with this poem and my daughter asking if she could be late for school so she can announce herself at the office. I thought about the delight when things don’t quite make sense.

Hurry

By Marie Howe

We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store   

and the gas station and the green market and   

Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,   

as she runs along two or three steps behind me   

her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down. 

  

Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?   

To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?   

Today, when all the errands are finally done, I say to her,   

Honey I’m sorry I keep saying Hurry—   

you walk ahead of me. You be the mother.

   

And, Hurry up, she says, over her shoulder, looking   

back at me, laughing. Hurry up now darling, she says,   

hurry, hurry, taking the house keys from my hands.

—

Up next:

Being and Breathing happens February 9th , 5-6 pm Pacific Time.

Coming home to now, meditation bundle for download here!