I was in the pool
yesterday swimming laps. I’m getting into a nice routine these days. I know
what clothes to pack and have all my toiletries arranged together so I’m ready
for the shower after my swim. When I’m in the locker room, I hear a lot of
plastic bags crinkling as other women organize themselves too. I’ve gotten
pretty good at this schedule and very rarely leave something behind.
I like to be the
first one at the pool. When given the choice, I use the same lane each time and
jump right in to begin my lap count. I’ve figured out the rhythm and have
devised a system to remember what number lap I’m on that I used long ago. Back
when our children were little and I was still making desserts for Shabbos, I’d
haul out my Kitchen-Aid mixer from the cupboard and measure ingredients. Often,
my mind would wander, and I would lose count of how many cups of flour I’d
added to the oil and sugar that were already in the bowl. Each cup was named
for one of our children who was that age. “Moishe is one,” I’d say as I put
flour cup number one into the bowl. “Miri is two,” and so on.
So here I am
decades later saying, “Nechama is one” as I do lap number one while thinking of
my zees granddaughter. It still works
beautifully. With my swimming strokes and lap count under control, I’m now
working on increasing my speed. I want this swimming exercise to be a real
workout and like testing myself to see how fast I can go. I also find that I
like to “take care of business” and get this swimming exercise done and over
with. I thought about that as I drove home from the pool today. Mentally, I
watched myself going through my morning routine as I ticked things off my list
in my mind’s eye: Get up, daven, do daily exercises, pack swim bag, hurry to
the pool, swim, shower, go home. “Wait, stop!” I tell the cameraman in my mind.
I ask myself, “What is the rush? Where do I have to be? Do I have to meet
anyone? Is there something pressing to do when I get home? The answers to all
those questions are a resounding “No!”
I’ve been
conditioned and programmed for so many years to rush from one thing to another.
Now, it’s true that there was a time when my life was about cramming as many
things into the day as I could with many unfinished tasks spilling into the
next day, and the one after that. I don’t have that kind of life anymore. There
are certainly moments that are busier than others, but they are few and far
between. I don’t have to live anymore as if I have five children under the age
of seven.
It’s time to stop
and smell the roses. After that thought gently came into my head, I happened to
notice the speed limit as I was heading home and thought that since I’m not in
a hurry, I can focus on keeping to the appropriate limit. I won’t have to worry
about the speed cameras they have in abundance here in Baltimore. I also can
stop trying to move through my day in hot pursuit of getting through each task.
Why not enjoy each moment as it comes?
An old friend of
mine from Cleveland made a simcha here in Baltimore last night. It was a
beautiful and very lively Sefardic chasana.
I enjoyed seeing old friends and pictured in my mind a cute little girl instead
of the radiant kallah sitting regally with her family at the badeken. Everyone was
enjoying themselves. After the chuppa, the kallah’s friends were dancing
fervently without letup, in a rush of running and jumping at a frenetic pace.
My friends and I were equally full of joy. We surrounded the mother of the
kallah and danced to our own lively but slower beat.
The wedding hall
was lovely, and it was evident how much care, love, and effort the kallah’s
mother put into making the beautiful decorations. The flowers were exquisite,
and my table was adorned with a beautiful centerpiece made of roses. I wanted
to smell their wonderful fragrance and reached out to touch one of them,
knowing for sure it was real. I was surprised to find my fingers grasping a
petal made of silk. I smiled amid the noise and happiness.
Being in a lively
hall full of simcha was a good way to focus on the moment, which forced me to
slow down and turn off the endless thoughts in my mind. I gazed around the room
and saw girls dancing around the kallah, ladies standing on the sidelines,
while even older ladies watched the excitement from their tables. It felt good
to be right there in such a happy place. What a wonderful opportunity to stop
and smell the roses.
Zahava Hochberg created the weekly column “Musings through
a Bifocal Lens” for the Monsey
Mevaser newspaper. She also created a new section for the paper called “The
Silver Slant.” Zahava can be reached at zahava.hochberg17@gmail.com
