DOWD'S SWEET TOOTH

SAVORING THE SWEET IN LIFE

Sheboygan Falls

Dowd Simpson

15 Aug, 2015

Being from Charlotte, North Carolina, (born, raised, moved away, traveled to a number of different places, and then returned again with a family of my own), a city type of lifestyle has become a part of my DNA so to speak. Resultantly, the things that go along with a city type of lifestyle birthed in me a natural inclination or affinity for a faster pace of life. Having been in Sheboygan Falls, Wisconsin for the past week, I am discovering that my natural inclination toward a faster pace of life might not actually be one of affinity. Being here, it is as if my body is in rebellion against everything that I thought was apart of me. Strive, achieve, go go go, hurry up, rush, faster, quicker, more, more, more stress, more tightening, more suffocating... Breathe, exhale, see, open my eyes, wide, free... This is what I want. This is what I need. This is what I desire as a part of my DNA, these types of character traits and the space to allow them to grow, blossom and produce an aroma reflecting its Author.


This all started when I saw a large rectangular white sign. Inside were numbers. Written in black. 25.


I was amazed to see speed limits of 25, like on major roads, and that everyone obeyed the speed limit and no one was tailing me to tell me to speed up. I was even more amazed to learn that I could actually make my car go 25 miles per hour. To be honest, at first I was annoyed. 25. On a major road in the middle of their "city." Come on, I've got places to be and to be there quickly... But did I really? What was the hurry? Why was I in such a rush? I was actually early to wherever I was going on this particular day of revelation, because I am always early. So there should have been freedom from the constraints of my clock. I shouldn't have been counting the ticks adding up to the anticipation of a potential slap on the wrist or a disappointed face of tardiness, but that was my natural inclination after all, a genetic predisposition passed down from my city upbringing, to hurry up and go faster. Yet amongst the expanse of corn fields and simplicity of isolated barns, I found a comfort in the uninterrupted space, almost like coming home to a place I never knew existed but somehow was a part of me, as if from another season of my life or another life entirely.


I am thankful for that large rectangular sign, forcing me to slow down, exhale, breathe and discover how to savor the act of driving slowly and all of its genetically predisposed traits.



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