Friday, 23 March 2012

Rushing Roulette

Being a postman, I deliver to 540 houses. On a daily basis this takes me on average of about three hours and the distance I walk is approximately 7.5 miles. I've been on this delivery for the best part of seven years.

Because of this, I've got to know loads of people. For example, this morning I was talking to someone for about three minutes and in that time four or five cars went passed hooting their horns at me, each time the drivers' hand waving out of the window.

I've seen families form and families crumble. I've said goodbye to people, only to find out the next day that they've died overnight or over the weekend.

A lot of people I deliver to no longer look at me as their postman, but as their friend.

Someone walked passed me last week and said, "You always have time for everyone, don't you" and smiled.

And this is one of the things I've found out that people want: time - which equates to your presence.

I've said to a few people, "There's not enough time to rush".

Now, on occasion I do find myself walking faster than normal and I also find that when I'm in this mode, I find my patience being put to the test when someone is talking to me. There's a part of me that wants to move on. "I must keep going. I must keep going."

This is the result of lack of awareness, because the majority of the time I'm rushing for no apparent reason whatsoever.

It's only when I become aware of this unnecessary state of being that I can drop down a gear.

And what happens when I drop down a gear?

I start to ease into the moment and my surroundings come alive (of course, they were always vibrant, it's just that I was blinded by my state of mind).

I become aware of my breathing. I can hear the birds and the wind in the trees. I can smell the air. I can feel the sun's heat on my face. I can hear the traffic. I can hear a distant siren and a barking dog (one of the worst sounds for a postman to hear - mixed with the sound of pounding paws galloping their way towards you is a common nightmare amongst us post folk!).

But what I have found is that when I slow down I gain something.

And that something is time.

Kind of ironic.

I'm more present. Slowing down brings me back here. I look and listen more intensely. But I also get to share this presence with others.

By doing this I become less selfish and more selfless. My time stops and is replaced by Time.

What do I mean by Time?

This shared moment - a continuum which we can't be separate from. It can't be owned.

It's now.

And now.

And now.

And now.

When we're here it's blissful and when we're not here we tend to suffer in our ignorance.

When you're here you're in Love.

It's funny that we're always in Love, but can't see it because we're preoccupied with other things which we think are more important.

It's like we're gambling with our state of mind.

"Would you do . . . if you knew you were missing out on . . . ?"

When you sink into IT you'll have all the time in the world - the last thing you'll want to do is rush.


  1. Dude, people beep their horns cos your spending too much time chatting and not enough time delivering!

  2. :) Yeah, that is a possibility man.

  3. Kind of experience the moment / power of now going on there perhaps mate?

    1. Of course. It's all about being here. No perhaps.