When Time Feels Manageable
I begin the morning relaxed. I have ample margin built into my schedule—a gift of breathing room to myself. No rushing. No tight deadlines. I’ll arrive at the airport early, sharing an Uber with my friend whose flight leaves a full two hours before mine.
Everything feels calm. Manageable. Under control.
My flight back home is scheduled for 3:15 p.m. I’ll land in Dallas at 6:20, with a comfortable one hour and twenty minutes layover before my final flight home. Plenty of time.
Until the dings begin.

The Dings That Change Things
Ding.
A text from American Airlines. My flight to Dallas is delayed by 15 minutes.
I don’t mind. I’ll still have an hour to get to the next gate once I arrive in Dallas. No biggie.
Ding.
New departure time: 4:00 p.m. Arrival in Dallas: 7:05.
My stomach tightens a little. Now I’ll have to run when I get there. I begin shifting to a hurry mindset.
Ding.
Departure pushed to 5:05 p.m. This won’t work at all . . . except my connecting flight is also delayed. It’ll still be close. Still tense. Still possible—but barely.
Ding.
Really? Now I’ll leave at 5:30 p.m.
I talk to customer service at the airport. They tell me to keep my flight to Dallas and hope for the best. Hope feels wobbly, but it’s all I have.
When Hope Runs Out
Ding.
5:57 p.m.
Ding.
6:24 p.m.
Ding.
The seventh delay seems like a final verdict: 7:07 p.m.
I’m done.
This time, I know I’ll miss my connecting flight.
And then—something unexpected happens.
An Experiment with Pace

My February theme I’ve chosen for my One Word Shift is Pace.
Specifically, I want to honor the pace this moment requires. I pull forward the tangible representation from my One Word jar: my deceased aunt’s old watch—a reminder that time is more relative than we realize.
Sometimes altering my pace means I slow down. Intentionally. I’m trying to stop rushing when when rushing isn’t necessary.
Other times, it means I speed up—not letting something linger longer than it needs to.
Like writing this blog post.
I decided to see how quickly I could put it together.
As it turns out: not as fast as I wanted. But also, not as long as it could have taken.
The Moment Everything Softens
Back at the airport, once I know that I won’t make it home tonight, my jitters disappear.
When rushing was no longer an option, something in me finally softened.
The delay is so large that I’m back to having plenty of time again.
The mental math stops. The frantic inner voice quiets down. I’m no longer in rush mode, because there is no rushing something out of my control.
And somehow . . . that’s freeing.
Waiting Is Okay
I finally arrive in Dallas at 10:30 p.m.
I shift back into slow mode.
Waiting for customer service.
Waiting for the shuttle.
Waiting in line at the hotel that night (compliments of American Airlines).
By midnight, I’m in a bed. And by morning, I’m on a new flight home at a leisurely 10:30 a.m.

The Real Shift
Experimenting with pace has been interesting. I’m learning that while physical shifts matter, for me the mental shifts matter more.
Timing isn’t always within our control. But knowing when to slow down and when to speed up is helping me better live in the moment I’m actually in—not the one I’m racing toward or the one I’m trying to resist.
Timing isn’t always within our control—but our pace still is.
As it turns out, staying present here is the sweetest time of all.
When have you had to speed up lately? Slow down? I’d love to hear in the comments.
