Race to Happiness

It seems like lately I’ve been doing a lot of running. Literally and figuratively. Running for soccer and softball, yes, but also running away from or to people. Sometimes even myself. Everything is happening so fast, and I feel like I need to keep holding on and everything will work itself out, but really, I just want to let go. I want to lie in bed and forget all the messes that I need to go clean up. I want to ignore the text messages, the phone calls, the notes, the emails. I want to hide- be alone for awhile. I need time and space, but time is flying by and all the spaces are filled. It’s like the first day of kindergarten; you don’t want to let go of mommy’s hand, but you now that if you don’t hurry, all the good cubbies will be taken and you won’t have anywhere to put your new 64 pack of Crayola’s.
The whole world is in a race. A race with what seems to be no finish line. But I just keep running. Convincing myself that maybe one, maybe two more steps and I’ll be done. I’ll be fully happy. I keep going and the going isn’t getting any better. The pavement is cracked, people are passing me, and it’s starting to rain. But I run anyway. Hoping the finish line isn’t much further away.