There was a time not too long ago that I was known as a pacer. If something … anything …was making me think … seriously think … I paced.
I loathed it. I was embarrassed. I was humiliated. But still … I paced.
It’s easy to blame it all on Britt. Sweet Britt, who may have made the decision that caused her death, but did not make the decision to die. She loved life and wanted to live. But she died. So it’s easy to blame her for my pacing.
I paced the house when Todd was out with friends. I paced the driveway if he was late.
I paced the classrooms when I went back to work. I paced the playgrounds while the children played. I paced the wall of theaters while watching films. I paced the halls while at church. I paced.
(May 5, 2012 - Nikon D90 with 18-55mm Nikkor Lens)
The other day, out of the blue and for no special reason, I realized that I don’t pace anymore.
I have no idea when it stopped.
I do know that we all make progress in life without knowing it. We grow. We live. And for that I am thankful!