The Pace of My Life

We are a family of pacers. We don't sit and think, we pace and think and many of our friends are pacers. What is it about motion that seems to help the thought process? I watch Blues Clues with my grandson and the main character encourages the kids to sit and think about the clues. Sit? My grandson knows better, you only sit if you have needle work in your hands. Or in his case, needle unwork.

The other day I was pacing in the kitchen and our friend was pacing in the green room. My mother paced in back and forth, commiserating with each of us. I left the kitchen, paced through the green room to pace the hallway for a different perspective but hubby was already there, pacing with a cell phone in his hands, talking to a contractor, on his day off. Back through the green room into the kitchen but I had vacated and Eldest had taken it and was pacing with her cell, making a hand flicking motion that I shouldn't "bother" her with my pacing.

I paced on to the pink room, where I did stop my pacing. To gaze transfixed into the fireplace. I have found that the one thing that can stop a pacer is an open flame. The dancing flickers gave my legs a rest while my mind still raced. Back and forth, up and down, pace, pace, pace. Then slowly, calm came. Puzzle pieces began to fall into place. This step should lead to that one, which could mean this was so, which meant the possibilities there were open and thus.

Back to the computer, quickly acting before I lose the inspiration, pulling the story together. Fingers fly over the keyboard. Slight distraction. What the heck? Why are all of these people walking around? So annoying! Why don't they hurry up and come to their inspiration? Where was I again? Shoot! What was that thought? Where was I going with that line of reasoning? Why are my legs so figgety? Oh, I better get up, what room is open? Why doesn't it quit raining? Crap! Too many people are here pacing, pacing, pacing.