Like A Snail

I was incredulous at how tired I felt in those few days
following the Catheter Ablation. I had all these grand
plans to meet friends for lunch, to go over to Vivienne's
house to play with her kid, Rowan.... all these plans went
down the toilet when I came to the realisation that
I needed to rest because I just didn't have the energy
to do all that I wanted to do.

It felt really strange to slow things down. I'm used
to walking fast. I pride myself on getting from point
A to point B in super speed.

("I'm gonna be a superhero.....na-na-na-na-na-na...")

So walking slow and taking my time to go up a flight
of stairs was bizarre.

But it made me feel more empathy towards those for
whom literally taking it slow is not a temporary measure,
but a necessity. I think I'm beginning to see the plight of the handicapped
and the elderly with a little more clarity.

I started to notice how overhead bridges were great
for the young and spritely, but I noticed how the elderly were having
a hard time just taking those steps up the long flight of stairs, just to
cross the road outside of an MRT subway station.

I started to notice how fast traffic light signals changed.
I'd never even paid attention to those countdown numbers before,
those numbers that signal how much time you have left to cross the road.

I started to notice how fast people walked. Everyone
seemed to be rushing somewhere, someplace, out and into subways,
along corridors.

How strange it is to feel like a snail.
How strange, and yet how wonderful to feel the freedom,
of being out of time's grip...
of taking slow...deep breaths...of watching the colour of the day
swirl around...hearing the buzz of people slowly fade to a hum...